
« . n (Cl «■ 

p.0 ' c> 

i> c^ ''■ « '^V. \'i’ 

I ^ y 

.\V <J^ ^ » (i 

‘‘"Wv ^ ' 




^ ' A 

° o> -TV >- , 

o’* y %.''<• .^^'' <^ ,,., ■ : 

'Kr d • * ^'r. \V 

^ rx . ®. 'l'',i5?i.\F |» 


S!S.5 


,* \0 


sC^ ' 


^'^^' '^A.. 


Z 



'' 

O' * 


o. 

^ \ 1 8 


all 

_ -V o 

r • ^ 


o 

o 

2*. 

% 


x- ^ 

Blfr .:^ « ^ * 


O 

-tj 

■X'<'^' 

"J^. 

'Ki. 

O ^/f% 
O ^ 

Xt ^ 

=* Cx 

!Ca ^ 

V oV 





'^c 


<tV • 8 ^ 

'f 

"o 0^ = V’ -< 

^ * 

Vi' ■'W5^ ^ /Pj^^ N OO^^ ^ 0 

f ;< ^ . 0 , V * . . - ;/ ^^rV‘ - ” ’■ v< ' * 

*3^ '‘ ^ \'^^' ° 'ij(' W * A' 

^ ^ >, cf, * ‘ii £J -i oV - ^ 

i- A , o ^0,.-^ ,cr ^ '/- 

' ^ o^ 0*^* c«^ ‘■A <P 

aV £^(U//^ -p ^ -v ,-s5yAV'^ ^ 

V ^ KSsT5i<y^ •'■ (O (a' ® iT- ‘ 

, ' v> ^ ^ O^ ^ 

V -P- ' 

$' 











^ 0 ' « 

^ ^ D N 0 ^ \ * '^. ^ ^ 8 1 A * ^ , , 

if/K- %. c<- 'X-. *';,(|\^^a'’''o o* 


r \L 

TW^ 

i *''^3P A 

fi^ *- 

0 ' ^ 
\ 

^ » 1 



, 

L ^ ’-^ 






P 

ii'\x^\ V. •>- 

I y ^\vvV^ > '^- ct V. 

' %/* ^rf’* /■ , . „ -'V , . . , 

’■ - " ■^- ^iessl:''.' % ^ ’■ 


rL^''' C‘ 

^ 1 " 




, '4' ^ ' > 

I V ^o^ <* ** 

I O M C ^ 

✓ ’5^ \\ 

io’' ^ 

: \0 ■=<. ^ 
y 

/.A-" ^0-’ %, 



^ o s 0 ^ 

\/ ^ ^ ^ n 


: : 





\/» \ 

* c 

c#* ,» ^ A 

%°o 0°^ 

. ■'o o'* J '. 

° ' '^/'«ar ^ 

, '5 

v'^.vo, % ‘■■’"n'^ S- 




• >P°. 





cT* ii^ V * 

>C^»1 Vy>-^ X. ^ 'fy'/za^WK^ ^ > 

V- .a*tfjr»»- \ c>^ ^ C3 o -i 

. 'ik ^ t c ^ ^ O /I 1 4l>' ^ 

-r ^^v\\Si5* > 



0 

* « 1 A-" '0 

0, -' ^'"Z.''' C 

•>.. .•x^’ » ' 




' ;v A ' * «. 

O «/> ® «» W)^ Jb 

> -V oV 

'^> ' 0 • >> '^ c 0 ♦ -c* 


v'^ ^ 



















/ 


SERmmKmmMmmy 


T 


0 




The Man from Oshkosh 


'V 


by JOHN HICKS, LL. D. 

T.ATE p:nvoy extuaokdinary and minister plenipotentiary 
OF THE UNITED STATES TO PERU. 





Gfiioago- 

• ^/i(]rlestlSergel-6ompanji- 



Vol. 1, No. 7. New Series. Issued Monthly. Nov. 1894. 





THE 

Man from Oshkosh 

A STORY 

IN SEVERAL. CHAPTERS AND A PREFACE 


/B. 

JOHN HICKS, LL D. 

LATE ENVOY EXTRAORDINARY AND MINISTER PLENIPOTENTIARY 
OF THE UNITED STATES TO PERU. 



i 



„V 





\ 


OC’ 1 7 ! 89^; I 

^ u 


CHICAGO 

CHARLES H. SERGEL COMPANY 

LONDON: SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON & CO. 

1891 





I 


> 'T • ■' 

V, '• 4 • • 

" - 





I ^ , r -• 



^ ^ • V « 

• < i_ 


w r’- 



Copyright 1894 by John Hicks, LL. D. 



- r 



< 
i *“ 


-X 









r 






i 


r- 


MY MOTHER 


WHOSE BOUNDLESS LOVE HAS BEEN THE 
INSPIRATION OF A LIFETIME, 

' ‘ %imc JBoob - 

IS 

AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 

BY 


THE AUTHOR. 




I?- 




. A - TAW- m 


|nhd .-oi 10 stoqu'q £ •jcI /Cft et ioo(i 

Im.') 2ls..ToV iln :> uij ju'iohiB 

ifjiw; ullffTiST 5/no^ jtiHj «i 

te.,4Soqif 3TU ^mh£iiSdt 

'Sjfi onw kLibiviijm i>ffi ni bi-tzoi-jlnr &?, 

Zfi feio53t -$dl ^^vxr.£ ol Aut im it ihi f isr(t ,r}^^d . 
'iqidi'^q dHW .pvii,£m:ri £, \o itnoT^ffi it: Uacrj I j^ijd 
■ ti mdf \l XU l:iw I -iO :in<; 

-i5^^r/.3 10 kuzanis zueiqqi; ndj .jhod -Mi ai 

dwob iaq tM ^tni^hso' dJiw vc^nlf. vejt* i/ 

^ bii^' kmss'rt di:riu' i sfiq icdJ 3liHw ' 

' Moim z& hazHhid. ,xi3Wz kum ,\ud 

Xu tmuitiq jiojurr u s n moX 

Mdl dioiritd Iffid? i'X To Oil> iiior^ 

;■ . . _ ■ • , ithZiUz 




f.^. V i 






-W. 






a 


BY WAY OF A PREFACE. 


This book is not written for a purpose or to bring 
about a reform. The only justification for its exist 
ence is that some years ago I became familiar with 
the leading incidents that are here touched upon, and 
so much interested in the individual who figures as the 
hero, that 1 felt it my duty to arrange the record as 
best 1 could in the form of a narrative. With perhaps 
one or two features excepted, I will say that if there is 
anything in the book that appears unusual or exagger- 
ated, it may almost with certainty be put down as fact, 
while that part which seems natural and commonplace 
may, with equal safety, be classed as fiction. If the 
reader derives from it a tithe as much pleasure as I 
have had from the writing of it, 1 shall be more than 
satisfied. 


.A ' ' ‘3* 


. » • v/‘ •" 




aTHHTX-0 3^ 


- . - .... • V - - 

- ii,. yA 1 


G554E '£ET'YB 'an eSX.AT Y"rjv;?.a .TV/H -tH 


a,f >icr!fT ajiA .r* 


1 .’ OM ‘I ^ >1 

■'^ .* 




*' Vi '. 

c an JV *. 

., . '. SAKJJTO T'/AT>TO-Ti/-i .fl^ ■ 

• ^ •'i 

» , i y*'” il / ^.-1 

•i ^ . 

o' o.. ' .^ i; Yi\ 17 


8 .H .ii 4 V'-'^ 




, - -. girl’s 0 ’^ etiOO S :i . JIt/T- 

' * •.' - '. y.*-!? V:V?t>a’- ,/ 7 .-' '' 


u ’oaroo-s A .n,/:' 

- • * ' •► 1 ' 


i < 


« ' / '• , 2 a-sd 

' V ' " * - ' 

. ■ y ‘'aoTr:ji 7 . 

4 5 E 22 'j?’lkiTi? 'St'^'l; ^' 5 IH' . 7 ^?. 




i' "' ' 

I • • • 


, fA'-.c 5j , . ; < i •> '.C \ t. 


V - '-■ • i? 


^ " sr*: >, 

*■' ?-■• '^ 'iV^. ' ' 


r-»'' ■*'>- ■-:• 'X v^- ■-.'• .-♦>V >'-?•. ->.'■•,■• ■ •'--v>''- •:'•■'- ■ ■' • - i , . 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. page 

I. IN WHICH HE IS BORN I 

II. HIS EVIL GENIUS TAKES HIM BY THE HAND . 1 1 

III. ANT) THEN HE MEETS AN ANGEL . . . 29 

IV. A VISITOR FROM BELOW 45 

V. THE TRAILING ARBUTUS 59 

VI. HE GETS HIS FORTUNE TOLD .... 66 

VII. AN IMPORTANT CLIMAX 73 

Vill. IN WHICH HE RECEIVES A LETTER . . . 77 

IX. NEWS FROM AFAR ...... 86 

X. A LATTER-DAY STATESMAN . . , . 9 1 

XI. IN AMBUSH lOI 

XII. RUS IN URBE I07 

XIII. HE GOES TO SEA II5 

XIV. CROSSING THE CONTINENT . . . . I30 

XV. DOM’N THE COAST I36 

XVI. FIGHTING FOR A FOOTHOLD . . . . I54 

XVII. BUDS OF HOPE . . . . . ,165 

XVIII. AN UGLY VISITOR 1 76 

XIX. HE WATCHES THE FIREWORKS . . . . 1 85 

XX. A CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY . , . . 1 95 

vii 


Vlll 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. PAGE 

XXI. HE SKATES ON VERY THIN ICE . . . 208 

XXII. NOT DUST TO DUST OR ASHES TO ASHES . . 2 26 

XXIII. A BAILE ON A BIRTHDAY . . . . 235 

XXIV. BEHIND THE BARS . . . . . 24I 

XXV. HIDDEN TREASURE 25 1 

XXVI. IN WHICH HE GOES AFTER HUACOS , , 262 

XXVII. WITHIN THE SHADOW . . . . , 2^0 

XXVIII. DEATH AND LIFE . . . . . , 279 

XXIX. OLD FRIENDS AND NEW ENEMIES . . . 287 

.XXX. THE BELLS OF SAN PEDRO . . . .299 

XXXI. HE WATCHES AN EXPLOSION .... 306 

XXXII. A JOLLY OLD FRIAR . . . . . 318 

XXXIII. SONG OF THE INGRATB . . . . *332 

XXXIV. A PERUVIAN COASTER 339 

XXXV. CROSSING THE CORDILLERA .... 348 

XXXVI. HE GOES TO LOOK FOR TREASURE . . . 355 

XXXVII. HE RETURNS DISAPPOINTED . . ... 365 

XXXVIII. A STRUGGLE IN THE ANDES . . . . 379 

XXXIX. HE SELLS SOME COPPER . . . . 385 

XL. HE RECEIVES ANOTHER LETTER . . . 389 

XLI. A DOUBLE EGO 394 

XLII. SOME FIGURES IN A BOOK .... 40O 

XLIII. A REALISED IDEAL 407 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


CHAPTEK I 
IN WHICH HE IS BORN 

Once there was a man named Solomon Juniper who 
lived at Neponset in the State of Maine. He was 
called Solomon Juniper, and so he wrote his name, hut 
originally he was known as Solomon Jumper, and his 
father and grandfather before him had gone through 
the world bearing the unpoetical name of Jumper. 
The Jumpers were of English origin, and the ancestor 
of Solomon had settled in Canada, where he had main- 
tained himself and family by cultivating a small farm. 
Solomon Juniper was the head-sawyer in the mill at 
hTeponset. Several years before he had become in- 
terested in the anti -slavery movement, which was 
beginning to absorb public attention in the northern 
part of the United States. At the solicitation of the 
Whig postmaster in Neponset, he had subscribed for 
the Hew York Weekly Tribune, in which the abolition 
of slavery was advocated by Horace Greeley with the 
vigour of a true believer. The first number of the paper 
came to him with his name spelled Solomon Juniper. 
The difference was slight, but in the direction of an 
inexpensive improvement, and from that time onward 
he adopted the new name as his own. 

The sawmill where he was employed was the prin- 
cipal feature of the village. It was operated by water- 
power from the Neponset river. A single upright saw 

A 


2 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


attached to the end of a lever moved up and down, 
deliberately working its way length-wise through a 
pine log. The work of the head-sawyer was to start 
the saw, and then, when it had sawed a strip from the 
log, to stop the machinery, and, with the aid of the 
tail-sawyer, to move the log with an iron crowbar so 
that another board could be sawed off. By this im- 
proved machinery the manufacture of pine lumber was 
carried on much faster than the old-fashioned way of 
sawing by hand, with one man in a pit pulling the saw 
down, while the other man stood on the log and pulled 
the saw in the opposite direction. 

Neponset was in the northern part of Maine. It 
had several hundred inhabitants, who gained a liveli- 
hood by means of their daily labour, some in the saw- 
mill, others in the flouring-mill near by, and the rest 
spent their time in shaving shingles or cutting logs in 
the adjacent forests or in tilling that portion of the 
soil which had but recently been cleared of its timber. 
Money was scarce and labour poorly paid. The effects 
of the great financial panic of 1837 not entirely 
passed off, while the threatened war with Mexico un- 
settled public affairs. Commercial depression falls 
with sufficient severity in the large centres of popula- 
tion, but on the frontier, where life means a wrestling 
with nature, and a subsistence is gained only by con- 
tending against great odds, it presses upon one’s exist- 
ence like a pall. A man worked all day in the woods 
or toiled among the stumps in the field for four “ York 
shillings ” or half a dollar, and if he was unusually 
attentive to his labour, and had secured a desirable 
position like that held by Mr. Juniper, he received the 
comfortable salary of six “ York shillings ” a day. The 
early settlers had founded Neponset in the virgin forest. 
A sawmill, a blacksmith shop, and a small store were 
soon followed by a collection of small houses, a church 
and school-house, and the village was established. 

Mr. Juniper’s residence was better than the average, 


IN WHICH HE IS BORN 


3 


as was befitting one whose standing in life and whose 
position in the world were rather higher than those of 
his fellows. It was built of boards, and had a finished 
appearance as compared with the houses of his neigh- 
bours, which were of logs, after the manner in which 
the early settlers generally constructed their houses. 
True, it was not larger, and really it had but one room, 
and the roof sloped all in one direction, in the fashion 
of a “shanty,” as the style was known in those days; 
but Solomon had divided the interior into three com- 
partments, a living-room that contained the stove, the 
table and chairs, and a sleeping-room for himself and 
wife, and another for the children. To be sure, the 
low partitions were only of inch boards, but you could 
not see over them unless you stood on tiptoe, so they 
answered the purpose very well. The interior was 
nicely whitewashed, and the wooden floor was almost 
white from the effects of continued and oft-repeated 
scrubbing. The house was on the hill, with a street 
laid out on two sides of it, and Solomon had begun 
the ornamentation of his ground by planting a row of 
shade-trees, which marked the limit of his land on 
either side from the corner. Hear by a small garden 
gave existence to a few rows of corn and potatoes, 
which struggled valiantly to live among the black 
stumps of the trees which had only recently covered 
the land. Mr. Juniper wore a hickory shirt in the 
summer and a red flannel one in the winter, while his 
feet were encased in high boots the year around. He 
had a slight cast in his left eye, so that he seemed to 
be able to look in two different directions at the same 
time. This peculiarity was so useful and his sight was 
so keen and searching, that he had ceased to consider 
it a defect, but had grown to pride himself upon it as 
something wherein he had the a^^antage of other men. 
Thus Nature often sngar-coare our deformities and 
softens the acerbity of misfortune, as the grass will 
cover a battle-field and conceal under softest covering 


4 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


the evidence of man’s cruelty to man. Except when 
he was asleep or eating his meals, a pipe was rarely 
absent from his mouth, working or resting. He smoked 
plug tobacco cut into small pieces, and long habit had 
so bound him to his pipe that he could not talk freely, 
or even carry on a continuous train of thought, if it 
were not in its accustomed place. Liquor he never 
used. He was a man of fair intelligence. In his 
youth he had studied Daboll’s arithmetic, and at any 
time he could cast up accounts in his head more 
quickly and accurately than the clerk in the store 
could figure them out with a pencil and paper. His 
books were few. A small leather-covered copy of 
Johnson’s Dictionary was used more tlian any other, 
and any word not to be found in its pages was im- 
mediately pronounced spurious. The ‘‘ Aral )ian Hights,” 
Hume’s “History of England,” “The Pirate’s Own Book,” 
“Adventures of Claude Duval,” the “Life of General 
Marion,” the “ History of the American ISTavy,” and 
“ Camp-Fires of the Pevolution ” — these were the cheer 
and solace of his life. He had read them all so many 
times that he could repeat passages from any of them 
almost word for word, and many a time he liad enter- 
tained the tail-sawyer with stories which he had read 
from these books. The long tedious hours spent at 
his work had served to strengthen a naturally good 
memory, for the ideas imbibed from books were used 
as food to be thoroughly masticated, then swallowed 
and digested, and afterwards went to form a part of 
his very being. Sunday afternoon was religiously 
devoted to the Hew York Tribune, and Mr. Greeley 
had no more ardent admirer or more thorough student 
than the head-sawyer at Neponset. His belief in 
abolitionism and hatred of slavery grew with each 
succeeding year as a result of this reading. 

Mrs. Juniper was one of a family of twelve children 
born in New Brunswick. Solomon had met her at a 
barn-raising about a dozen years before, when he was 


IN WHICH HE IS BORN 


5 


working at his trade of a carpenter. She was then 
living with a married sister, whose husband was build- 
ing the barn, and Solomon fell intensely in love with 
her. She was a bustling little woman, with a round 
plump face and blue eyes, and was always a great 
admirer of her husband. Two of her brothers had 
emigrated to Wisconsin, where they were engaged in 
navigating a steamboat at Green Bay, and the ambi- 
tion of her life was to induce her husband to join them 
in that distant region. 

It happened one night in April. The snow had all 
disappeared several weeks before, and the air was be- 
ginning to have that soft, dreamy feeling that in 
northern latitudes indicates the approach of pleasant 
weather. Eobins had appeared. The lowing of the 
cows or the sound of the chopper’s axe resounded 
clearly through the woods, almost with a succession 
of sounds like an echo. At a little distance from the 
village the brush and timber from a “clearing” was 
burning, and the air for several days had been im- 
pregnated with smoke, and this evening, as Solomon 
walked down to the store after supper, it blinded his 
eyes, and almost concealed the street before him. 
Shortly after dark he left the store, and when he was 
about half way home he was alarmed by the cry of 
“ Fire ! Fire ! ” At the further extreme of the village, 
a small log-house, occupied by one of the teamsters 
at the sawmill, was on fire around the stove-pipe. 
In twenty minutes half the population of Neponset 
was on hand to extinguish the fire, which was soon 
done with pails of water, and again quiet reigned, and 
the people separated in twos and threes to talk over 
the startling event. 

When Mr. Juniper reached his home, after assuring 
himself by a personal inspection of the premises that 
the fire had been entirely quenched, he found his wife 
standing at the gate awaiting him. 

“ Is that you, Sol ? ” said she. 


6 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“ It's me. Where are the children?” 

“ They’re in bed, and asleep long ago. Oh, Sol, I’m 
afraid my time has come. I think you had better go 
and see Mary Ann.” 

“ You don’t say so ? ” 

“ Yes, I’m sure of it, and you’ll have to take the boys 
over to Jim’s. Better stop there on your way back 
from Mary Ann’s, and tell them, so they can be ready. 
They can both sleep in the trundle-bed. I won’t wake 
them till you get back. Now hurry.” 

“ All right, old woman,” said Solomon, taking his 
pipe from his mouth and imprinting a kiss upon his 
wife’s lips. “ By-bye.” 

With calm and measured tread Mr. Juniper took his 
way in the darkness and smoke down the street past 
the store to a small house where a tallow-candle on 
the table shone through the window bright and clear 
into the night. His rap at the door was answered by 
Mary Ann herself. She was a pale-faced woman, about 
fifty years old, with hair slightly grey and keen black 
eyes. Her countenance indicated intelligence and good 
nature, and her presence was always marked by an 
odour of camphor or paregoric, or both combined. 

Solomon addressed a few words to her in a tone of 
voice so low and indistinct that no one else could dis- 
tinguish his words or understand their meaning. 

“Very well, Mr. Juniper,” said Mary Ann. “I un- 
derstand. I shall be with you instantly.” 

Mary Ann turned to speak to her daughter, a young 
woman of twenty, who taught the village school, and 
Solomon took his leave. 

Up the cross street from the store, on the corner 
near the church, was Jim’s house. Jim was a cousin 
of Mrs. J uniper. He was one of the owners of the 
store, and his house was the best in the village. Here 
Solomon stopped for a moment to whisper something 
to. Jim’s wife, who came to the door. 

When Solomon returned to his own house, he found 


IN WHICH HE IS BORN 


7 


Mrs. Juniper busily engaged knitting a childs blue 
stocking. A candle was burning upon the table, and a 
Connecticut clock ticked off the seconds in a cheery, 
home-like way. 

It was the work of only a few minutes to rouse and 
dress the boys. Henry Clay, the elder, was a stout, 
red-cheeked lad of ten years, while William Harrison 
was two years younger. The latter rubbed his eyes with 
both hands, and refused to move unless he could carry 
with him a small axe which he had placed at the foot of 
his bed when he went to sleep. Neither of the boys 
could understand why they were going to Uncle Jim’s 
at this unseemly hour of the night, but hand in hand 
they started out, following their father. Solomon had 
brought out an old tin lantern which was fitted out 
with half a tallow candle, and, as he walked along 
ahead, the boys stared in wonder at the weird streaks 
of light which swayed to and fro across the landscape, 
and William Harrison clasped his brother’s hand in 
breathless silence until he learnt the origin of the giant 
figures. 

At Jim’s the boys were soon stowed away in the 
trundle-bed for the night. But William Harrison 
could not go to sleep until Henry Clay had told him a 
story about how the Norwegians kill bears. 

Mary Ann reached the Juniper house just as Solomon 
and the boys left. She entered with a cheery saluta- 
tion to Mrs. Juniper, who had resumed the knitting. 
Passing directly to the small room where the two little 
girls were asleep, she hung up the heavy shawl on a 
nail behind the door, and then, after ascertaining where 
the tea-canister was kept, and examining the wood-box 
to see if it was well filled, she seated herself next to 
Mrs. Juniper and began to tell her about the fire at 
the teamster’s house. 

The next morning Solomon ate his breakfast alone 
by the light of a candle. . Mary Ann divided her time 
between the preparation of the breakfast and frequent 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


visits to tho small bedroom adjacent, flitting back and 
forth like a swallow building a nest. Solomon com- 
pleted his meal just as the morning light began to 
break, and, before starting for the mill, he stepped into 
the adjoining room where Mrs. Juniper was in bed. 

“Do you think he looks like you, Sol?” she said, 
glancing with a demure smile at a small bundle at her 
side. 

Solomon removed his pipe from his mouth and 
silently bent over the object indicated, putting aside 
the white swathings until he could distinguish the 
little pink face and black hair, the chubby fist and 
the dark eyes, and gazed long and earnestly at the 
combination. 

“ I guess he’ll do,” was his only reply. 

Just then Mary Ann rushed in as if Solomon had 
been taking undue liberties with something entirely 
and legitimately in her charge. Lifting the almost 
inanimate package into her lap she seated herself on 
the foot of the bed and opened the wrappings so as 
to display the tiny features to the gaze of both the 
parents. 

“ Do you see that line ? ” marking with the point of 
her forefinger on the forehead of the cherub, between 
the eyes and upwards towards the left temple where 
the veins showed themselves faintly through the purple 
skin forming a capital Y in darker purple. “ Now you 
mark my words. That boy will be a big man. He 
has a future before him. When I’m dead and gone he 
will be somebody that we’ll read about.” 

“Why, Mary Ann,” said the mother in a tone that 
combined motherly pride and the weariness of the 
flesh, “how you talk. The child may not live.” 

“ Live ? You could not kill him with a club. I 
never saw such a young one in all my born days. 
There’ll be no trouble about his living, I warrant 
you.” 

Solomon gently smoothed back the soft brown hair 


IN WHICH HE IS BOUN 9 

from his wife’s forehead with one hand, while with the 
other he held his pipe away from the bedside. 

“ Never mind, dear,” he said. “ The boy is all right. 
You keep quiet and get a little sleep,” and in a moment 
he was gone to his work. The future of the child did 
not interest him nearly as much as the present and 
its perplexities for himself and his increasing family. 
Five children for a man of less than thirty-five years 
with the hard times and the low wages made existence 
a problem which called for serious study. There had 
been another boy, older than the two girls, but scarlet 
fever had closed the tender eyes, and a little mound in 
the new cemetery on the hill was visited by the mother 
fc'. cry Sunday during the summer and autumn months. 

The tail-sawyer, after wishing Mr. Juniper much 
joy, had vainly tried to engage him in conversation, 
but Solomon was quiet all day and answered only in 
short words. 

In August, on a Sunday morning, Solomon carried 
the babe in his arms to the church, with Mrs. Juniper 
by his side arrayed in her best delaine gown, and a 
straw bonnet with a big rose in front, and after the 
sermon the two walked smartly to the pulpit. 

'' I baptize thee, Horace, in the name of the Father, 
Son, and Holy Ghost,” said the preacher, a tall awkward 
man, who held service there on the first Sunday in 
every month. 

It had been Mrs. Juniper’s desire that the boy should 
be named after his father, but Solomon opposed it. The 
name of the wisest of mankind seemed to him a bur- 
lesque when applied to an ordinary human being, and 
his admiration for the editor of the Tribune led him 
to select the name which the preacher had that day 
bestowed upon the child. 

The night before, IVIrs. Juniper had received a letter 
from her brother, Benjamin Buddie, in Wisconsin. It 
had come by the stage from Peewanscott, and was dated 
early in July, Benjamin repeated his request that 


10 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Solomon and his wife should join him in the West. He 
had just received the contract for carrying the mail 
from Green Bay to Fort Winnebago, and he promised 
lhat Solomon would find steady employment and good 
wages all the year. The country was soon to be settled, 
and already a sawmill had been built at Knaggs’s 
I'erry, and several men had come from the East with 
money to buy land, and a town would soon spring up 
there. That was the country for a poor man without 
doubt, and especially a man with a family of boys, 
because there was plenty of land, and boys were always 
useful on a farm. 

Mr. and Mrs. J imiper talked over the letter on their 
way home and all the rest of the day. The result 
was favourable to the change. It was decided that 
Solomon should write to Mr. Buddie at once to make 
certain inquiries. 

The next spring, when Solomon returned from the 
woods where he worked every winter after the saw- 
mill stopped running, he packed his household goods, 
and, with a stout heart, his wife and five children, 
started for the West. 


CHAPTEE II 

HIS EVIL GENIUS TAKES HIM BY THE HAND 

“Never mind, mother. God knows what is best for 
me. I am glad it is no worse.” 

The speaker was a young man of nineteen. He lay 
upon a chintz-covered lounge with his left hand con- 
cealed in wrappings of white cloth. His dark hair and 
heavy dark eyebrows were emphasised by the paleness 
of his countenance and the air of anxiety it wore. 

The room in which he lay was in disorder. Drops 
of blood spotted the rag-carpet, the boy’s faded coal 
sprinkled with sawdust lay upon a chair, the tables 
held a pitcher of water and strips of white cloth, with 
pieces of thread, and marks of crimson could be seen 
among them. An old-fashioned clock stood on the 
shelf opposite the door, and near the window a middle- 
aged woman sat quietly weeping. Out of the window 
could be seen the shimmering leaves of a row of 
Lombardy poplars which rose above two long piles of 
slab wood, and through the open window came the 
moist odour of freshly sawed pine. Sawdust formed 
the pavement of the street in front, and the noisy 
thrum of a sawmill, varied occasionally by the shriek 
of a circular saw as it chawed its way through a log 
like a veritable demon, could be heard in the distance, 
and now and again a waggon loaded with lumber oi 
pine slabs passed along the street, the immense horser 
plodding along with their noses near the'ground. 

An accident had happened. It was one of those 
little events so common among the mills. 


12 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Horatio Juniper was a “jointer” in Welt and 
Shelley’s shingle-mill. It was his work to pick up 
the shingles as they came down the spout from the 
machine overhead and smooth off the sides by placing 
the shingle in the slot of another machine which 
quickly gave the shingle a straight edge. Then the 
shingle was reversed and the other side was straight- 
ened, and it was thrown in a pile where three or four 
girls were at work packing the shingles into compact 
bunches for shipment. 

Eagerly engaged with either hand alternately passing 
the shingles to the “ edger,” and intent upon a sentence 
in a book he had been reading the night before, and 
which had been running in his mind all day, Horatio 
pushed the soft, wet shingle with his left hand into 
the revolving wheel, when it suddenly split, his hand 
struck the knife, and he felt a smarting sensation in 
his fingers. He dropped the shingles and bound up the 
hand in his handkerchief, thinking to stop the bleeding 
and proceed with his work. Suddenly the floor seemed 
covered with blood, one of the girls shrieked, very much 
to Horatio’s surju-ise, for he did not suppose that she 
had been injured, and then the mill stopped and a 
crowd of men and boys surrounded him, and he was 
led out by the foreman with the blood dropping rapidly 
before him, and a benumbed sensation in his hand and 
arm and a sickening feeling of misery and desolation 
in his heart. 

Mr. Welt, the proprietor of the mill, came out of the 
office near by just as Horatio emerged from the mill. 
He backed his horse out of the shed, assisted Horatio 
into the side-bar buggy, and drove slowly out to the 
street, after sending a boy running for Dr. Eundle. 
A drive of a few minutes down the rough street with 
the wheels of the buggy jolting in the sawdust-covered 
ruts brought them to Horatio’s house. 

Mrs. Juniper turned deadly pale at the sight of her 
son, but her soft voice never wavered, and her gentle- 


HIS EVIL GENIUS TAKES HIM BY THE HAND I 3 


ness was unbroken as she made him as comfortable as 
possible until the arrival of the doctor. 

Dr. Eunclle came in a few minutes. He was a 
large, heavy man, who moved with the deliberation of 
an elephant. His countenance was stolid but good- 
natured, and he was never known to be excited or 
annoyed. He enjoyed the cutting and dissecting of 
the human body better than he did his meals, and 
jjeople said he had sawed off more legs and dressed 
more wounds than any other dozen men in Wisconsin. 

The doctor seated himself in a chair opposite the 
young man on the sofa. “ Well, Hod,” said he with a 
smile, “ been having some fun, have you ? ” 

Young Juniper had never been near enough to the 
doctor before to speak to him, and he was surprised 
that the doctor should know his name, but he was. 
rather pleased than otherwise, and thinking about it 
made him forget for an instant the pain in his lingers, 
which was now becoming intolerable. 

Examination showed that the forefinger almost to 
the second joint was missing, and nearly half the middle 
finger had also been cut away. 

“ Glad it wasn’t your old head, my boy,” said the 
doctor grimly. “ How funny you’d look, going around 
here without any head.” 

Horatio laughed as much as he could for the pain. 

“ Don’t mind it. Hod,” and the doctor clipped a little 
piece of skin with his scissors, which hurt the boy 
more than it did when he felt the cruel knife cutting 
through his joints. He had watched all the operation 
intensely at first, but all at once there was a suffo- 
cating feeling which made it hard to breathe, and then 
this was followed by a listless, dreamy sensation, and 
the sound of soft music in the distance. Horatio 
happened to look up, and a glance at his mother’s face 
showed so much heartache, that he ground his teeth 
together, determined that he would do nothing to add 
to her sorrow. He .repeated, “ Our Father, who art in 


14 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Heaven ” and the whole of the Lord’s Prayer over and 
over, and he fixed his eyes on the lumber piles across 
the way, and counted the courses of boards from top 
to bottom, and then from bottom to top, and listened 
to the shriek of the circular saw from the mill, and 
wondered if he would be allowed his pay for three- 
quarters of a day, or for only half a day, as it was 
almost three o’clock when the thing happened, and all 
this time the doctor was busily at work with his instru- 
ments, cutting and trimming, and finally, as he wound 
a bandage over the hand and secured it on the outside, 
he leaned back in his chair and laughingly said to the 
boy— 

There, old fellow ! in a week’s time you’ll be as good 
as new. You can’t be drafted, that’s one consolation.” 

Hr. Bundle picked up the few instruments he had 
brought with him and turned to go. 

“ Come around to my office to-morrow at ten o’clock, 
so I can see how it is getting along,” he said, and then, 
like a big Newfoundland dog, he sauntered out into the 
street and was lost to sight. 

Without making any attempt to arrange the room, 
Mrs. Juniper waited until the sound of the doctor’s 
footstep could no longer be heard, and then she rose,^ 
knelt beside the boy’s couch, threw her arms around 
his neck, and gave vent to her pent-up agony in a flood 
of tears. 

There was reason for her grief. Aside from the 
injury to her boy, her life had become darkened by 
great shadows which seemed to shut out the light from 
her existence entirely, and with each recurring misfor- 
tune she had felt to ask, “ What next, 0 Lord ? what 
next ? ” 

With her husband and children she had located at 
Green Bay near her brother, and then, after two years, 
the family removed to Grand Chute for another year 
or two, and then to Oshkosh, the thrifty village where 
the Fox Biver unites with the lake, and in the rapid 


HIS EVIL GENIUS TAKES HIM BY THE HAND I 5 


growth and general prosperity of the settlement as the 
years passed the future of the Juniper family seemed 
bright. Solomon, after numerous changes, had bought 
a couple of lots near the mills, and started the building 
of a substantial residence. It had been partially com- 
pleted when the family removed to it, but a sudden 
change of plans had prevented any more work upon 
it, and its unpainted sides had become weather-beaten 
and dingy with the lapse of years, and the unfinished 
interior continually suggested to the mother the failure 
of cherished hopes. Solomon was the foreman in the 
mill, and in the winter he was at the head of a crew of 
loggers in the pine woods of the Wolf Eiver. It was 
on one of these winter absences that the idea occurred 
to him wdiich caused him to stop the work on his 
house. 

The pine lands of the Wolf and its tributaries were 
being rapidly absorbed, and Solomon’s acute perception 
told him that in a few years the pine timber must be 
greatly advanced in value. The war had already given 
an impetus to prices, and the future pointed to a still 
greater enhancement. Solomon took his winter’s wages, 
or as much as he could spare, in the spring, and 
‘'entered ” a small tract of pine land. From that time 
his funds, more than what sufficed for his actual neces- 
sities, were sacredly devoted to the purchase of more 
land, until his wife began to complain of his hobby, for 
it seriously interfered with the purchase of many of the 
comforts of life. 

The two older boys had entered the army. One of 
the first names on the roll of Company E, Second Eegi- 
nient, was that of Henry C. Juniper, and after the 
battle of Bull Eun his name headed the list of the 
killed. William Harrison Juniper had gone out in 
the Fifth Wisconsin, and a year after a neighbour had 
brought her one evening a copy of The Daily North- 
Western, with a telegraphic account of the storming of 
Petersburgh, where the Wisconsin regiment and Colonel 


1 6 THE MAN FHOM OSHKOSH 

Allan, its gallant commander, had heroically marched 
into a hell-fire of shot and shell, and the despatch was 
eloquent in its account of the bravery of the men and 
the steadiness of the officers, and cited Balaklava and 
Thermopylae and Marathon as examples of warlike 
valour which had that day been far outdone at Peters- 
burgh. But all this was lost on the poor mother when 
she read at the bottom of the despatch, “ Killed — Lieut. 
W. H. Juniper, Co. D, shot through the heart on the 
enemy’s redoubt,” &c. &c. The paper dropped from 
her nerveless hand and the room swam before her. 

Then one winter afternoon the year before, towards 
night, when she was preparing the evening meal for 
Horatio, a tall man, a stranger, with a woollen cap and 
a red woollen comforter around his neck, and yellow 
boot-packs on his feet, and a whip in his hand, rapped 
nervously at the front door. 

“ Good day, Miss J uniper ; ’sense me, but your hus- 
band’s dead. We’ve got him in a sleigh at the office, 
and he’ll be here in five minutes. Just thought I’d 
call around and let you know.” 

Then seeing that the poor woman was about to faint, 
he added in a kind voice — 

“Don’t take on. Miss Juniper, can’t be helped. He 
was a good man I know, but we’ve all got to die some 
time. He was trying to help one of the choppers that 
had got a tree stalled, and the tree fell the wrong way 
and killed him.” 

One of the daughters, Samantha, the elder, had 
married a young Vineland farmer, who had met her at 
a hop-pickers’ dance in the country where she taught 
school near Oshkosh, when he fell in love with her and 
they had removed to Minnesota. There, between the 
snows of winter and the grasshoppers in the summer, 
and fears of a rising of the Indians all around them, 
they were living a life of deprivation and suffering, with 
no very alluring prospect ahead. And then to com- 
plete the catalogue of misfortunes. Patience, the younger 


HIS EVIL GENIUS TAKES HIM BY THE HAND I 7 

daughter, who had joined her sister in Minnesota, 
and was a teacher in the district school, was killed by 
lightning as she stood beneath an oak-tree where she 
had taken refuge from a storm. 

Samantha’s letter, notifying her mother of the acci- 
dent, blurred and blotted as it was, regretted that she 
and her husband had not means enough to send back 
the remains of poor Patience for burial at Oshkosh ; 
but there was a mortgage on the farm, and the year’s 
3rop was a failure, and George had been sick, and the 
baby was not well, but she hoped for better times soon. 
Poor Patience would rest as well in that distant land, 
but it would have been such a comfort if the mother 
could see her grave, and know that a flower or two was 
growing upon it, and it was kept clear from weeds. 

Some families seem afflicted by a succession of cala- 
mities, as if misfortune was a matter of inheritance, like 
consumption, or as if Fate delighted in following up its 
victim, dealing blow after blow with the most relentless 
pertinacity. Then it always seems as if it were the 
poor and friendless who suffered from these continuous 
shafts of disaster, and that the wealthy and well-to- 
do usually escape. If a boy falls into the river and 
drowns, it is always the son of a poor woman. If the 
locomotive kills a man on the railroad, it is a friend- 
less tramp or a hard-working man in blue overalls. 
When a steamboat blows up, who are the killed and 
wounded ? Is it the millowner or the lumberman ? 
Is it the merchant or the banker ? 'No. Nine times 
out of ten the men who are killed are working for 
small wages, and invariably leave large families behind 
them. When a woman is stricken with paralysis and 
becomes helpless, or takes a fever and dies, it is always 
one who has a houseful of children dependent upon 
her; and smallpox and diphtheria, and scarlet fever 
and typhoid fever, and the countless scourges that 
exterminate the human family and make simple 
existence a devious uncertainty — all these find theii 


i8 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


food in the houses of the poor. It is easy enough to 
say, “ Thy will be done, 0 Lord,” when you have your 
husband and children around you. The ways of Pro- 
vidence are easily explained when they bring good 
luck, or even when they cause trouble to some one 
else ; but the mystery is inexplicable, the darkness is 
overpowering, Divine justice, to say nothing of Divine 
mercy, seems to have gone astray entirely when the 
Lord tekes from you everything on earth that made 
life better than death. It is the cry of the crushed 
soul, and is as old as mankind : “ Why am I thus pun- 
ished ? What have I done that every ray of sunshine, 
every source of happiness, nay, even the impulse of 
life itself, is taken from me ? Death can be no worse. 
Let me die. That is all that is left to me.” 

Thoughts like these filled the mind of the poor 
woman. For days during the past year she had gone 
about her household duties like one in a sort of stupor. 
This last outburst of grief had been delirious and 
overpowering. Its effect was beneficial. That which 
we call life — the unseen, incomprehensible something 
which science cannot understand and no pen can 
describe — is a compound from many different sources : 
animal existence, the stomach, the nerves, the affec- 
tions, the mind, the brain, hope, joy, the sense of duty, 
all these are included. In life’s great crises the over- 
charged feelings find vent in nature’s remedy, tears, 
and the paroxysm of grief is the facsimile of death 
itself. It is akin in its effect to that of a powerful 
medicine which rends the physical system in death- 
like pain and the torture of dissolution itself, and when 
the climacteric is past, the patient lies weak and help- 
less for the time, but the immediate danger is over. 

Mrs. J uniper in her mourning was living over again 
her past. The little house on the hill in Neponset, 
where her children were born, with the elm-trees 
and the garden, made a sweet picture in her mind that 
gave relief to her feelings. And Solomon, great, awk- 


HIS EVIL GENIUS TAKES HIM BY THE HAND I 9 


ward, big-hearted Solomon, shy and gentle as a woman, 
she thought of him as he first appeared to her in the 
days of their courtship and the night he asked her to 
marry him, and of his struggles to make a home for her 
and the children. Then there was a small, worn locket 
that held a wisp of brown hair of the little boy that 
died, and the last letter from Henry, her first-born, 
written the night before he was killed at Manassas, so 
hopeful, stout-hearted, and manly, and full of encour- 
aging words to her ; she had read it over hundreds of 
limes, and every time she seemed to find some new 
meaning in his expressions of love and confidence in 
the future ; and a tidy that Patience made for her just 
before she went away. She kept it on the rocking- 
chair, just as it was the day Patience left for Min- 
nesota; and William’s silver watch, with its chain 
braided out of some of her own hair, cut partially in 
two by the bullet which killed him, sent home to her 
by his comrades after that dreadful charge at Peters- 
burgh. She was never lonely. There was a companion- 
ship in these mournful reminders of the past that filled 
her soul with something like peace, and in their con- 
templation day after day passed and she knew it not. 

Thus the memory of the past is the solace and con- 
solation of the aged. As youth is inspired by hope, 
and the dawning sun of the future gilds every prospect 
with its radiance, so age is brightened by the chaste 
and holy light which comes from the torch of memory. 
Horatio had lived half a lifetime in the past two or 
three years. His buoyant temperament had met each 
succeeding shock at first with a wild, rebellious grief 
that convulsed him in hopeless melancholy for the time, 
but his spirits went through the gamut of the feelings 
from the lowest point of depression almost to the 
highest note of consolation, and he had said to him- 
self — for he was a youth — “ This is life. This is sorrow. 
This is suffering. This is God’s will. I must bear it 
manfully.” 


20 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


The next day he went to Dr. Bundle’s office to have 
his wounds dressed, and when the wrappings were re- 
moved, he found that the ends of the first and second 
fingers had been amputated by the doctor’s operation ; 
and when both were healed, his forefinger would be a 
little shorter than the little finger, and the middle finger 
a trifie longer. The doctor promised that he would be 
able to use them as well as before the accident. 

In the afternoon he received a visit from Miss Apple- 
ton and her sister Amelia, neighbours, who brought him 
jelly and offered to read to him. They were maiden 
ladies of a certain age, who always dressed alike in 
neutral grey tints, and always spoke with soft, purring 
voices, and were always the first in every work of charity 
or aid to the suffering. 

After supper another visitor came. It was Lars 
Johnson, the young man who worked the “jointer” on 
the side opposite Horatio, for the machine was arranged 
for two operators to work at once. 

“What do you suppose old Welt says about your 
accident ? ” he bluntly asked. 

“ Perhaps he thinks I was to blame,” said Horatio. 

“ He says if you didn’t have your head full of book 
nonsense you could work better, and any fool ought to 
know better than to poke his fingers against a knife. 
Condemn him! I’d like to break his head. Every 
man in the mill is mad at him. They’ve put one of 
the girls in your place, but I hope you’ll be back soon.” 

Horatio winced, for, in spite of the brutal unkind- 
ness of Mr. Welt’s remark, he recognised its truth. 

Saturday afternoon, about five o’clock, a boy came 
to the door from Welt & Shelley’s office and handed 
Mrs. Juniper a small roll fastened with a rubber band, 
saying in a low voice, “ Horatio’s wages.” 

Horatio opened the package eagerly, unrolling it on 
the table with his right hand, and straightening out the 
bills and fractional currency before him. There was a 
crisp new two-dollar greenback — how rich it looked to 


HIS EVIL GENIUS TAKES HIM BY THE HAND 2 I 


the boy ! — an old one for one dollar, a fifty-cent shin- 
plaster, one each for twenty-five cents, ten cents, and five 
cents, and then a three-cent postage-stamp. Horatio 
separated each one by itself and added the amount, 
$3-93 — three days and a half at nine shillings a day. 

“What did I tell you, mother?” he called out. 
“ Mr. Welt has docked me for all my time Thursday 
afternoon, and allowed me only half a day.” 

His mother thought there might be some mistake 
about it. 

“ Mistake ? There's no mistake at all. He has even 
figured out the half-cent against me. Much good may 
it do him ! ” 

There were three other men and boys suffering from 
injuries received in the mills, who came to Dr. Eundle’s 
office to get their wounds dressed, and it was interest- 
ing to Iloratio to compare his case with the others. 
Two of them were worse than his, and the third, a boy 
of fifteen, had his thumb cut off in a lathe-saw. One 
of them, a little old man who smoked a black pipe, 
facetiously proposed to organise the Grand Oriental 
Order of Sawmill Cripples, and make Horatio secre- 
tary, because his right hand was still good, and he had 
fingers enough left to write with. 

“We can start off with more than fifty members 
here in Oshkosh,” said the little old man, “and we 
could initiate two or three new members on the first 
Monday in every month through the w’orking season.” 

In the early days of his disability, Horatio had passed 
much of his time in quiet reflection. The change from 
the busy life of hard labour was such a novelty that he 
rather enjoyed it in spite of the painful cause. Never 
since he had been ill with the measles, when he was 
fifteen years old, had he been incapacitated for work, 
and his time since then had been always occupied in 
some kind of labour — in the mill in summer, and in 
the woods and on the river in the winter and spring. 
When he retired at night, his mind had invariably been 


22 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


impressed with the necessity of rising at an early hour 
in the morning, and the naturally healthful slumber 
of youth had thus been poisoned by the dread of the 
awakening and the fear of being late, and the respon- 
sibilities of life had prematurely fallen upon him to 
tinge his horizon with the lack of sunshine. Now he 
could rise at any hour he chose. There was a luxury 
in remaining in bed long after the usual iioiir of 
breakfast, which he enjoyed to the utmost, and he cer- 
tainly had enough to think about. The unfortunate 
land speculation of his father had swallowed up the 
earnings of the family, and since his father’s death 
there was no income beyond his own scanty earnings. 
Nine shillings a day was pretty good wages, to be sure, 
but the war had made everything dear, and when 
wheat was $1.75 a bushel, and meat twenty cents 
a pound, and calico twenty cents a yard, and the 
bounty taxes and the regular taxes on the little place 
were getting larger and larger every year, it was all 
they could do to come out even when he worked every 
day. Now that he would be laid up for several months, 
the Lord knows how tliey were going to get money 
enough to pull through. 

After William died, his mother had received his 
back-pay, which enabled her to pay off a number of 
debts, and she had placed the rest in a Government 
I7.30 bond for $100, and this she had managed to 
keep, only using the coupons as they came due; but 
that was all that stood between them and actual 
poverty, and the winter’s wood that had been piled up 
to dry in the front yard was not yet paid for, and the 
taxes would be due in December; and there he was 
with a lame hand and out of a job. 

He had read a great deal. As he lay on the chintz- 
covered lounge, where he could watch the ceaseless 
motion of the Lombardy poplar leaves in the yard, he 
read Josephus, and Alison’s History, and "Japhet in 
Search of a Father,” and '' Tom Burke of Ours.” But 


HIS EVIL GENIUS TAKES HIM BY THE HAND 23 


biography suited him best, and he lived several days 
with the Continentals when they were hiding from the 
red-coats in the swamps of South Carolina, in tlie “ Life 
of General Marion,” and he went to England with Ben 
Franklin, where he worked in a printing-office, and 
saved his tuppence instead of spending it for beer, as 
the other printers did. Paul Jones was his constant 
companion when he made the Serapis strike her flag to 
the Bon Homme Richard while both ships were sink- 
ing, and Commodore Perry on Lake Erie, and Captain 
Bainbridge in his campaign against the British, and 
the famous fight of the Gonstitntion against the Java, 
which was twice her size. 

Toussaint L’ Overture, Napoleon, Frederick the Great, 
Andrew Jackson, and La Fayette were names more 
familiar to him than those of his companions, and in 
the weary hours of labour they seemed to be near him 
and to share his work with him. The ideal world 
which his reading opened to him was peopled with 
a wonderful throng of noted characters, whose com- 
panionship cheered his w^aking hours. It was singular 
to him, when he thought about it, that people gene- 
rally stood in such awe of a character like that of 
Washington, or the Duke of Wellington, or Julius 
Caesar, or Thomas Jefferson. He believed that in this 
world it was simply the will of the individual that 
determined his success or failure, and that, if occasion 
demanded, he would do what Bonaparte accomplished 
under similar circumstances. This constant associa- 
tion with distinguished characters in his mind night 
and day had given him the belief that he was in some 
way to become one of them, and he felt a sort of com- 
radeship with them that ennobled him in his own 
opinion. That he should eventually enroll his name 
in the list of immortal characters he felt was as certain 
as his existence. Just in what direction his genius 
was to express itself he had not yet determined. For 
himself, he thought that he foresaw a life of hard 


24 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


labour, but he remembered that Elihu Burritt had 
become a great scholar while following his trade of 
a blacksmith, and Benjamin Franklin astonished the 
world with his knowledge acquired at the printer’s 
case, and Hugh Miller, the Scotch stone-mason, taught 
the learned men of Europe the lesson of the rocks. 

Sometimes he longed for military glory, but war has 
now become simply a mechanical process, in which the 
heaviest cannon come out ahead, regardless of human 
skill, and the failure of Generals Scott and Patterson, 
and Pope and Meade, and McClellan and Hooker, and 
M‘Dowell and Sherman, convinced him that the chances 
for success in that direction were very small. To be 
sure, the name of General Grant was in everybody’s 
mouth, and there was a prospect that he would accom- 
plish what the others had failed to do ; but he was only 
one out of many. 

Then he thought, sometimes, that he would be an 
artist. If he could have the opportunity, he was quite 
sure that he could make a name for himself in paint- 
ing or sculpture. He would be like Michael Angelo, at 
once a painter, sculptor, and poet, master of the three 
arts whose inspiration comes from the same source. 
The poetic impulse was in him, he believed, for he 
loved the beautiful, the pure, and the good, and the 
mere outward expression was a secondary matter which 
he would learn if he undertook it. 

A. T. Stewart was an instance of extraordinary suc- 
cess in the world of commerce, where a poor boy had 
by his own unaided exertions lifted himself to the 
pinnacle of success ; and Henry Clay, and Lincoln, and 
Daniel Webster became the leading statesmen of the 
age they lived in through their own labours, and each 
started from a position in life no better than his own. 
All he lacked was the opportunity, that was evident. 

Finally the day came when he made the last call at 
the doctor’s office. The fingers had healed by the first 
intention, and would soon be so he could use theni 


HIS EVIL GENIUS TAKES HIM BY THE HAND 2 5 


again, although they would be a little stiff for a long 
time, and always tender. 

“ How much is my bill, doctor ? ” he inquired, as 
bravely as if he had command of all the deposits in 
Kellogg’s Bank. 

“ Nothing ; I make no charge.” 

“ But I’m going to pay you. I won’t have you do all 
this for nothing.” 

" I don’t want anything, I tell you, you rascal. Get 
out.” 

The doctor’s words sounded gruffly, but his good- 
natured smile contradicted what he said. 

A light dawned on Horatio. 

“ Perhaps Welt & Shelley have paid you ? ” 

“ No ; I asked them about it, and they refused. If 
he paid the bills for every man that cut himself in his 
mill, Mr. Welt said, he would soon have to take advan- 
tage of the Bankrupt Law. But then, you know, Mr. 
Welt is badly disappointed.” 

Disappointed ? ” 

“Yes, he feels badly. The price of shingles went 
up only ten cents a thousand last week, and they have 
been rising at the rate of twenty-five cents a thousand 
every week for some time. Mr. Welt can’t get over it.” 

“ I don’t care for his shingles, and I don’t want him 
to pay my bills either.” 

“ But he ought to pay this bill. Welt & Shelley is 
the only firm on the river that ever refused to pay a 
doctor’s bill in a case like this. I think if you would 
speak to them about it they would settle it.” 

“ Well, I won’t speak to them about it ; and what is 
more, doctor, if you don’t tell me how much my bill is. 
I’ll leave the money on the table.” 

He pulled out a little blue cloth-covered Diary for 
1863 as he spoke, and, removing the elastic, took out a 
thin roll of paper money and began thumbing the bills 
as if he was buying a farm. 

“ You’re a heathen, and the heathen is joined to his 


26 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


idols,” said the doctor. “ Just hold your breath a 
minute, and I’ll make out your bill for you, if you feel 
so bad about it ; ” and he took down his book and turned 
over the leaves with a great show of doing something, 
as people do on the stage, and Horatio could hear him 
muttering to himself, “ Six times five is thirty, aught 
from aught leaves aught and two to carry. Twice five 
is ten and three times nine is twenty-seven.” 

Horatio wondered if his next winter’s wages would 
be enough to pay the account in full, and his heart 
smote him as he thought that perhaps after all he had 
been a little rash in so confidently demanding his bill. 

“ There you are, young Astor,” said the doctor, push- 
ing toward the boy a strip of paper. 

Horatio picked it up and read — 

“ Hod Juniper to Dr. G. P. Rundle, junr.. Dr. To 
Professional Services, August 25 to October 10, 1864, 
J3.00 dols. Received Pay’t, G. P. Rundle, junr., M.D.” 

“ I think your bill is very reasonable indeed,” said 
Horatio, and he took out the bright new two-dollar 
greenback, and the old torn one-dollar bill he had re- 
ceived in his last payment from Welt & Shelley, which 
he had been saving for the purpose. There was but 
little left in the side-pocket of the Diary when he re- 
turned the rest of the bills and fractional currency to 
their place and put the book back in his pocket. 

When he had thanked the doctor cordially for his 
kindness, he walked downstairs with a great feeling of 
relief. First, he had insisted upon paying his own 
bill, and had paid it, every cent of it, out of his own 
hard-earned money. Second, he had no more visits 
to make to the doctor’s office. His wounds were so 
nearly healed that he determined to look up a job for 
the winter, and with his left hand still resting in a 
sling made of a black silk handkerchief of his father’s, 
he strolled down Ferry Street towards the Gang Mill. 
As he stood for a moment in front of the M‘Key Bro. 
& Fold’s store on the corner, looking at some brightly 


HIS EVIL GENIUS TAKES HIM BY THE HAND 27 

coloured Balmoral skirts in the big window, the bell 
on the Phoenix engine-house near by began ringing an 
alarm of fire. In an instant the streets were alive 
with people. Conspicuous in the crowd rushing to- 
ward the engine-houses were clerks and business men 
clad in red shirts and firemen’s hats, and one of them, 
a tall grocery -man, carried a big trumpet at his lips and 
began yelling through it as soon as he found himself 
outside of his grocery, ordering the crowd to stand out 
of his way as he rushed along. From the south side a 
small hand-engine came rattling over the float-bridge 
which connected the two sides of the town, and passed 
up High Street just as the Phoenix engine got under 
way. 

Horatio joined the crowd as it surged up High Street 
towards the mills. 

“Guess it’s your house. Hod,” said a young clerk 
in a crockery-store, who left the store door wide open 
and followed the excitement around the corner. Ferry 
Street was deserted in a moment. Up the river, in the 
district covered with mills and lumber piles, could be 
seen a dense black smoke gradually becoming higher 
and broader, with a flickering red light at the base 
which moved from side to side, while the air became 
filled with floating cinders as large as a man’s hat, and 
a sharp crackling sound could be distinctly heard, and 
there was a strong smell of burning pine- wood. 

With his heart in his mouth, and thoughts of his 
mother and the possibility of still another misfortune 
to her and him, Horatio ran so fast that he bumped his 
sore hand against the crowd until it ached. When he 
reached a point in the street where he could see the 
wood-coloured house and the Lombardy poplars, he felt 
like kneeling down on the plank side-walk and giving 
thanks to God, for his house was safe. 

It was Welt & Shelley’s mill, and in two hours it 
was a mass of smoking ruins, with only a little pile 
of discoloured bricks partially concealing the distorted 


28 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


remains of tlie engine and boiler. Everything else 
was burned, even the little office where Horatio had 
gone every Saturday night for his pay. The piles of 
green lumber and shingles had been saved by the usual 
heroic efforts of the firemen. 

Lars Johnson came up as Horatio was watching the 
llames. 

“Eough on old Welt, ain’t it, Hod? Mill shut 
down last Saturday, ’cause they had no more logs, and 
shingles goin’ up every day. Not a cent of insurance. 
Between you an’ me an’ the pinchin’-post, it serves ’em 
right, eh ? ” 

As Horatio ate his supper he said to his mother — 

“ That quarter of a day’s wages I ought to have had 
from Mr. Welt didn’t seem to do him much good after 
all, did it ? ” 

A few days later, Horatio went to the Gang Mill, 
where, in a little octagon - shaped office, he found 
Captain Judkins, a sprightly, bustling man with gold 
spectacles, who talked with a strong Boston accent. 
The Captain spoke kindly to him, and complimented 
him on his good grammar, and inquired about his 
reading. After an interview that lasted about half-an- 
hour, Horatio hired out to work for Clapp & Judkins in 
the woods on the Embarrass Kiver at $26.00 a month 
driving team. He was to go up with the first crew 
early in November, after the election, to get the camps 
ready, and remain in charge of the shanties until the 
drive started in the spring, and one-half his wages were 
to be payable monthly to his mother in Oshkosh. 

The $7.30 bond had to go. At Kellogg’s Bank, the 
next week, he sold it at his mother’s request, and 
the proceeds went to settle the wood bill and make 
other provisions for his mother’s comfort during his 
absence. Mrs. Juniper consented to the sale with 
many misgivings, but Horatio was hopeful that he 
would soon be able to replace it. 


CHAPTEE III 

AND THEN HE MEETS AN ANGEL 

It was a winter night in the* pine forests of the Wolf 
Eiver. The air was keen and frosty, and occasionally 
a loud noise could be heard like a gunshot. It was 
the frost rending the earth, which snapped in the dry 
electric air as if it would break open. As the cold 
wind came gently through the tall pines, it brought the 
odour of balsam and turpentine, and was grateful to 
the senses. There was little underbrush, but the trees 
stood close together, great black monsters, with the 
rough, uneven bark of the white pine rising fifty and 
sixty, and sometimes eighty feet without a limb, and 
here and there a tree of the Norway pine with its 
violet-coloured bark. As the tall tops, with their long 
needle-like leaves, swayed in the air overhead, they 
made a peculiar swishing noise almost like a woman’s 
whisper, that gave one a weird feeUng of uneasiness, as 
if he were alone in the presence of supernatural beings. 
Snow was on the ground to the depth of two feet or 
more, and, looking either way through the woods, it 
seemed as if one could see men standing around in 
every direction, only they did not move or show signs 
of life. 

Horatio Juniper, on this Saturday night, had been at 
a spelling-school in the little log schoolhouse at the 
Corners, and between nine and ten o’clock he was on 
his way back to the Clapp & Judkins camp. He 
walked along briskly through the woods, for one had 
to move fast to keep warm, and then he was late in 

29 


30 


THE MAN PROM OSHKOSH 


returning. A slight fall of snow that afternoon made 
the walking harder, but it also muffled the sound of his 
footsteps, as his moccasin-covered feet struck the soft 
yielding substance. 

Suddenly his ear caught the echo of music in tlio 
distance, and, after listening a few minutes, he thought 
he heard the notes of a woman’s voice. Gradually the 
sound came nearer and nearer, and, standing in the road 
by the side of a big tree, he waited until the homely 
words of a song, in a sweet tenor voice, came floating 
through the long aisles formed by the trees : — 

“ Dearest love, do you remember 
When we last did meet ? 

How you told me that you loved me, 

Kneeling at my feet ? 

Weeping sad and lonely, 

Hopes and fears how vain. 

Praying, w’hen this cruel war is over, 

Praying that we’ll meet again.” 

Suddenly he could see a team coming in the road 
ahead, and he walked on. There were two horses with 
no bells, and a bob-sleigh with the box of a lumber 
waggon, and they had come up the section-line road, 
which he would cross in a few minutes. He could see 
two men sitting on the spring-seat, with a buffalo robe 
over their legs, one of them driving. The other wore 
a soldier’s small dark-blue cap with the long visor, and 
a heavy light-blue overcoat with a cape, one side of 
which was thrown back over his shoulder. It was he 
who had been singing, and, as Horatio stood in the snow 
by the side of the road to let them pass, he spoke : — 

“ Good evening, young fellah.” 

“ Good evening, sir,” answered Horatio. 

The horses moved wearily with their load, for they 
had been driven from Oshkosh since daylight that 
morning, with a short stop at Young’s Corners for 
dinner. As they passed him, Horatio glanced at the 
sleigh, and a chill ran through him as he distinguished 


AND THEN HE MEETS AN ANGEL 


31 


by the dim light reflected from the snow, in the straw 
of the sleigh-box, the outlines of a plain wooden coffin. 

The soldier was young Ferguson, son of a substantial 
farmer and lumberman at Brown’s Mills, a few miles 
farther on. Ferguson and his brother had gone out 
in the Fourteenth. The brother was wounded in Ten- 
nessee, and lay for months between life and death in 
the hospital at Evansville, and finally closed his eyes 
in the sleep of eternal rest. Young Ferguson obtained 
a furlough of thirty days to bring all that was left 
of his brother to the little place in the woods, where 
the old mother could have 'her boy near her in his 
last sleep. 

The camp where Horatio lived was in a little clear- 
ing on the bank of a small creek that ran into the 
Embarrass Eiver, a tributary of the Big Wolf, so called 
to distinguish it from another of its branches known 
as the Little Wolf. A long, low, log cabin it was, with 
the chinks between the logs filled in with red clay, a 
stove-pipe running up through the roof at the farther 
end, a big door and one window in the front, a window 
in the side at the other end, and a sloping roof of 
pine boards, clap-boarded together, one lapping on the 
other to keep out the snow. There was a cook and a 
foreman, two or three choppers, three or four team- 
sters, and as many swampers to cut roads, handle the 
cross-cut saws, and do the other work. Beds for the 
crew were made on the floor on either side as you went 
in. The soft fragrant branches of the hemlock, covered 
with blankets, made a couch fit for the President, so 
yielding and comfortable, and always throwing out 
such a delicious odour. When the meals were ready, 
the long table was spread in the passage-way, and at 
either side a board nailed on two shingle-bolts made 
an easy seat. Such dinners and such suppers as they 
had! Plenty of excellent pork and beans, cooked as 
they are cooked only in a lumber-camp, and white bread 
and steaming hot saleratus biscuit, with yellow butter 


32 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


and good rich molasses to eat on it, and once or twice 
a-week they had nice fresh beef and venison, besides 
the regular salt pork, and on Sundays all the dried- 
apple-sauce they could eat. No wonder it was said 
that in the Clapp & Judkins camps the men always 
lived like fighting-cocks ! 

Outside there were sheds for the horses and oxen, 
and a pile of hay covered with a roof of boards, and a 
little heap of dry pine knots, newly chopped, for the 
big cook-stove. 

The huge pine-trees were felled by the choppers, 
then cut into lengths of fourteen, sixteen, or twenty 
feet with the cross-cut saw and a man at each end, 
and marked on the side with the Clapp & Judkins 
mark, which was cross M cross, and was easily made 
by a man with an axe, thus — X M X. This mark 
was duly registered in the Boom Company’s office at 
Oshkosh ; and when the logs floated down the river in 
the spring, the man at the Gap could easily sort out 
the Gang Mill logs from the other marks. 

Wide, low sleds were used, and the loading was all 
done by oxen. After a few weeks’ practice, the dull, 
morose-looking animals seemed to know just when to 
gee and when to haw, and an ox-team wdth a heavy 
chain could yank a big log on the sleigh before you 
could say Jack Eobinson. Horses hauled the loaded 
sleigh to the banks of the Embarrass, half a mile away, 
where the logs were piled to await the spring freshets 
which were to carry them to Oshkosh. 

When Saturday night came again, Horatio hurriedly 
put out his team and made himself ready for supper with 
more than usual care. He spent fully ten minutes in 
front of the little looking-glass by the light of a candle, 
trying to make his bushy, black hair keep its place ; but 
it stood up in front like the mane of a horse, and he was 
finally compelled to wet it to make it smooth down. 

“ Saturday night’s nigger’s night. Hod,” said the 
cook, as Horatio went out after supper. 


AND THEN HE MEETS AN ANGEL 


33 


The little log school-house at the Corners was half 
filled with young men and young women, boys and 
girls, when Horatio arrived, and soon the spelling com- 
menced. They invited him to spell, but as he was a 
stranger, he modestly declined, and sat back of the 
stove and looked on. When he saw big girls and 
young men go down on such easy words as 'phlegmatic 
and oxygen^ and contemporaneous and philosopher, he was 
provoked at himself for declining to spell. 

Several of the girls were very pretty. There was a 
young woman, in a big white apron and her hair in two 
tails tied with blue ribbons down the back, that kept 
glancing slyly at Horatio all the evening. He thought 
she was about the prettiest girl he had ever seen. The 
teacher was a kind of a stuck-up young lady with red 
hair, who looked at him only once or twice during the 
spelling. 

After that night, the long drives to the river with 
the loaded sleigh and Horatio walking behind his team 
were made a little less cheerless by the thought of the 
next spelling-school, and in a few weeks he had become 
the champion speller of the neighbourhood, and even 
the teacher had smiled at him. 

One Sunday he made a new acquaintance. One of 
his horses had got loose in the night, and he followed 
the tracks in the snow for a mile or two along the 
creek until he came to a log-cabin in a small clearing, 
where a deer-skin was stretched out and nailed to the 
side of the house. At the door was an old man with 
a cane and a patriarchal beard in which the original 
reddish-brown was struggling with streaks of grey. 
He had a protruding lip and watery grey eyes, and 
stooped badly, and spoke with a sharp quavering voice. 
He urged Horatio to come in, and the invitation was 
accepted. 

The room was the usual interior of a frontier cabin. 
A large cook-stove was at one end, and the pine table 
stood in front of the window. At the end opposite the 

c 


34 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


stove a long rifle hung on hooks in the wall, and be- 
neath it a single-barrel shot-gun, while a pair of bullet- 
moulds, a powder-horn, and iron ramrod, with a pair 
of snow-shoes and a couple of steel traps added to the 
outfit. On the wall near the stove over a cupboard 
were bunches of boneset, catnip, and tansy, hung up in 
the Fall to dry. A narrow stairway led to the upper 
floor, wliere a hanging shawl divided it into two rooms, 
each of which had a bed. Through the chinks of the 
logs next to the roof the light could be seen in the day- 
time, and when it snowed the flakes sometimes drifted 
through on the beds. 

The old man earned a precarious existence by hunt- 
ing and trapping in the winter, and by digging ginseng 
root in the summer. He was either too old or too lazy 
for hard work, and since his two boys had gone to the 
war, he seemed to lose what little ambition he had 
before, and nothing now delighted him more than to 
get some helpless friend in a corner and talk to him 
about that scoundrel Jeff Davis, and the devilry going 
on in Libby Prison, and the way our poor soldiers were 
starved to death at Anderson ville. In early life he 
had been a preacher, but now he was an atheist, and 
an unbeliever on general principles. He was of a 
violent temper, and there were times when he swore 
like a pirate. He had formerly lived on a farm near 
Buffalo, in the town of Sardinia, which he always 
called “ Sidanie.” 

In a low rocking-chair by the side of the stove sat 
Mrs. Branford. 

Mother,” said the old man kindly, as he walked 
in with Horatio, “ this is Mr. Juliper, from Clapp & 
Judkins’ camp. He’s lost his boss, and thinks mebbe 
he’s down this way some’res. An’t seen nothing of 
him, hev ye ? ” 

“ Han’t seen a crittur of no kind to-day,” said the 
old lady, smiling, and taking from her mouth a long- 
handled clay-pipe, and extending her hand to Horatio. 


AND THEN HE MEETS AN ANGEL 


35 


‘‘Take a cheer, Mr. Jolliver, and make yourself to 
hum,'’ she added, and replacing the long-stemmed pipe 
in her mouth, began pulling vigorously at it, expelling 
the dense clouds of grey smoke alternately from the 
right and left side of her mouth, without relaxing in 
the slightest the firm hold which her few remaining 
teeth had on the pipe- stem. 

Mrs. Branford was below the medium height, while 
her husband, if the crook in his neck and shoulders 
could be straightened out, was nearly six feet high. 
The old lady had a dried-up, w^earied sort of face, and 
dark eyes that always seemed to be looking at some 
object in the distance. She wore her iron-grey hair 
cut short, so that it fell loosely on her shoulders, where 
the ends turned outward and upward, so that when she 
rose to speak to Horatio, her head looked like that of 
Euryale or Medusa, whose hair was made of serpents, 
as everybody knows. 

Horatio talked a few minutes with the old man. 
He learned what the old man thought of Jeff Davis 
and the battle of Gettysburgh and the draft in Wis- 
consin, and was compelled to express his opinion as to 
whether Lee would surrender to Grant without a big 
battle, and as to the justice of hanging every infernal 
rebel general that w^as caught. 

When he left, he had promised to bring Mr. Bran- 
ford all the North- Westerns he had. The old man took 
the Sentinel, and was well posted on the progress of the 
war; but he wanted the North-Western, because his 
boys were in the Oshkosh Company of the Thirty- 
Second with Sherman, and the Oshkosh paper would 
give him news of them. 

At the next spelling-school, Horatio had a stand-up 
contest with a big fellow from across the creek, and was 
deeply chagrined to get beaten. He spelled indelible 
after two girls had missed it, and then had the word 
delable, which, of course, he spelled d-e-l-i-b-l-e. At a 
venture, the young man from across the creek spelled it 


36 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


d-e-l-e-b-l-e, and was rewarded by an emphatic “ Cor- 
rect ” from the teacher. Still Horatio had a great deal 
to think of as he walked home through the woods ; for 
at intermission he had talked with the teacher a few 
minutes, and all that night and the next morning 
he was wondering which were the handsomer, blue 
eyes or black eyes, and whether a young lady could 
ever think anything of a young gentleman who drove 
a team, and had to get up before daylight to feed his 
horses. 

After the late breakfast on Sunday morning, Horatio 
went out to the sheds to rub a little mutton- tallow on 
the shoulders of his off horse, where the skin had been 
broken by a tight collar. Then he found four copies 
of the North-- Western addressed in a scraggly hand to 
H. P. Juniper. Taking a pencil, he dotted the i plainly 
in each one of them, so it would not look like Jumper, 
a name he despised. His own name he was proud of. 
Originally he had been called Horace ; but in one of 
his books he had read some tine verses by a man named 
Macaulay, where Horace was called Horatio, which was 
Latin or G-reek for Horace, and from that time he 
wrote the name Horatio, and never would answer any- 
body when he was called Horace. Then he wanted a 
middle letter, for everybody that was anybody had two 
initials. There was J. Q. Adams, A. T. Stewart, R W. 
Emerson, John C. Heenan, A. W. Eandall, U. S. Grant, 
J. B. Powers, and lots of other big men with two front 
letters, and it always looked better wlien it was written 
than plain William Smith, or Gabe Bouck, or Tim 
Crane. He always wrote it H. R, and not Horatio R, 
as the first seemed much more business-like, and he 
thought it would look very well if he could write it 
H. P. Juniper & Co. He did not know just what the 
P. stood for ; and if any one ever asked him, he always 
replied that that was a secret. 

With the bundle of North- Westerns in the breast of 
his waumus, he started off right after dinner, whistling 


AND THEN HE MEETS AN ANGEL 


37 


Just before the battle, mother.” The old man met 
him at the door, and told him all about the march of 
the Thirty-Second from Pocataligo up through South 
Carolina, and how Columbia had been set on fire by 
Sherman’s Bummers ; and how glad he was that that 
hell-hole of Secession had been cleared out, and how 
he hoped Sherman would shoot old Johnston when he 
caught him, and what a long letter he had received 
from his son, giving all the news, and much more. 

The old lady sat by the fire puffing away as usual, 
her eerie locks looking more like snakes than ever. 
She stopped long enough to extend a cordial welcome 
to Horatio, who noticed that she had improved her 
personal appearance by the addition of a faded white 
silk handkerchief tied around her neck with the point 
hanging down behind. A beautiful coloured print of 
Washington crossing the Delaware, without any frame, 
had been tacked on the wall near the clock, and two 
extra chairs in the room showed that he was expected. 

As he sat listening to Mr. Branford, the old lady 
cried out — 

‘‘ Paw, why don’t Celia come down ? ” 

“ Hever mind, mother ; she’s cornin’.” 

Horatio had heard a light noise on the floor above, 
but then he did not suppose the Branfords were rich 
enough to keep a hired girl. Maybe Celia was their 
daughter, and maybe she was half-crazy, for the mother 
looked wild enough to have a half-crazy daughter, and 
he had heard of folks that had a daughter that was 
out of her head part of the time ; anyway, he was glad 
he was sitting near the door, so he could get out if he 
wanted to. 

Just then he heard a step on the stairs, and the next 
minute he lost his breath completely, for in came the 
pretty school-teacher from the Corners. 

“ Pll make you acquainted with my darter, Mr. Juli- 
per,” said the old man, waving his long bony hand with 
an attempt at a courtesy of the old school. 


38 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“ Yes, ma’am,” muttered Horatio rising confusedly, 
with all the blood in his body rushing to his face, and 
making an awkward bow. Very happy to make your 
acquaintance, sir.” 

“ Why, Mr. Juniper,” said the young lady cordially, 
extending her hand and smiling on him out of her 
great big blue eyes, I’m ever so glad to see you.” 
Then turning to her mother, she set him completely 
at ease by saying — 

“ Why, Ma, Mr. Juniper and I are old friends. He’s 
the best speller in my spelling-school. That was an 
awfully hard word you had last night, Mr. Juniper ; I 
declare I never can spell it myself unless I have the 
spelling-book right before me. How did you ever 
learn to spell so well, Mr. Juniper ? ” She seated 
herself opposite him. “ Oh, dear, it must be splendid 
to live in a large city, and have such chances to read 
and spell and go to lectures and hear music. Don’t 
you think so, Mr. J uniper ? ” 

(.'elia was a blonde. She had a complexion as white 
as milk when it is first strained in the pan, and her 
cheeks had just a tinge of colour in them, like the 
outer edge of a peach-blossom, while her little nose 
turned up just enough to prevent her from being con- 
sidered beautiful, and her mouth was the softest, her 
lips the reddest, and her teeth the whitest, you ever 
saw. Her hair was not red. That was a mistake. It 
reminded one of the colour of a partially ripe cherry, 
when it was kind of nut-brown in the middle and 
shaded into a whitish yellow at the end, for it was 
dark when it was all in a bunch, but when it fluffed 
up a little it was the colour of the western sky after 
a winter sunset. It was what they call Titian hair, 
named after some Frenchman, it seems. She wore it in 
a waterfall, which was a brown net with big squares, 
reaching way below her neck ; but when she let it 
all down at night before she went to bed, it covered 
her like a waterproof down below her waist, and was 


AND THEN HE MEETS AN ANGEL 39 

SO curly, and snarled so when she combed it out, that 
it brought the tears to her pretty eyes. 

She was slender for a girl of eighteen, but her bust 
measure was thirty-eight, and six or eight inches in 
front of her left shoulder was a mole as big as a pea, 
but it was like the piece of black plaster the fashion- 
able ladies used to wear on their faces ; for if you could 
have seen it, you would have said it made the pure 
skin look whiter and the blue veins bluer ; while her 
throat and neck were plump and graceful like a baby’s. 
On her little feet she wore black cloth gaiters, with 
the daintiest of white stockings and pretty pink elas- 
tics, making a sweet contrast with the cloud of white 
above. 

Besides her handsome hair and eyes, the dear girl 
had the three crowning graces of womanhood : she was 
always kind to everybody ; she was unselfish ; and she 
was as modest as the johnny-jump-ups that you find 
in the fields in the spring-time. Old folks always liked 
her, and poor people or lame people thought she was 
an angel ; and the good impression made by her trim, 
stylish figure and soft low voice grew stronger when 
you came to know the graces of her mind and the 
goodness of her heart. Oh, she was nice ! 

Looking at her parents and the dull, cheerless home, 
a body would wonder how such a happy little sun- 
beam could ever live in such a place, apparently almost 
violating the laws of heredity. But God sometimes 
sends His choicest gifts to the homes of the poor, as 
He makes the meadow-lark sing in the marshes where 
no one hears him, or the eidelweiss, the flower they 
say blossoms out of a snow-bank in Switzerland. 

Horatio noticed that she wore a black alpaca gown, 
with modest crinoline, that swayed gracefully as she 
walked ; and when she seated herself, he wondered how 
in the world she ever managed to fasten her dress, for 
it had a row of big buttons down the back. As she 
talked to him, he noticed her little pink ears and her 



40 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


white linen collar and the blue ribbon at her throat, 
and then he thought he never had seen such a small 
pair of linen cuffs, and the hands and lingers seemed 
as if they had stopped growing when she was about 
ten years old, they were so tiny and wax-like. 

“ I believe I like the country best. Miss Branford,” 
answered Horatio, for he was beginning to think that 
he had found something that suited him. 

Celia commenced to talk in her pretty chattering 
way, partly to him and partly to her mother, and the 
old man silently arose, took down his rifle from its 
hooks on the wall, and disappeared. 

They talked about the spelling-school, about Osh- 
kosh, and about books. Horatio was delighted to find 
that she had read “ The Green Mountain Boys,” and 
“ The Lamp-Lighter,” and “ Wide, Wide World,” and 
“ Ida May,” and Fern Leaves,” and “ Arabian Nights,” 
and many of his old favourites ; but she had not read 
lire’s “ Dictionary of Arts,” or “ The Adventures of Six- 
teen-String Jack,” or that Patent Office Eeport with 
an account of the exploration of the Amazon by Lieut 
Herndon. Then she had read The Planter’s Northern 
Bride,” and “ The Initials,” and “ Eutledge,” and he 
had not She had just commenced a new story by 
Charles Dickens, an English writer, called “David 
Copperfield,” and it was perfectly splendid. “You 
must read it, Mr. Juniper. You may take it just as 
soon as I finish it. I know you’ll like it. Dora is 
just too sweet for anything. I had to kiss the book 
ever so many times yesterday when I was reading 
about her. Yes, Ma, in a minute. No, I don’t sing. 
I went to singing-school two winters, but I only sing 
for Pa. Sometimes just before dark, Sunday nights, 
he wants me to* sing, ‘There is a fountain filled with 
blood,’ or ‘There’s rest for the weary,’ and he don’t 
care how I sing. Everything I do is nice to him. 
Mercy me, Mr. J uniper ! what does ail your fingers ? 
Oh, my ! And did you take camphor — er-er-camoniile — 


AND THEX HE MEETS AX AXCiEL 4 I 

no. I mean chloroform, when the operation was per- 
foi med ? Dear me ! Yes, Ma ; the pan on the right is 
morning’s milk. Don’t you think it’s perfectly awful 
for a lady to smoke ? Now, I know you do, but poor 
Ma can’t help it. When we lived in York State she 
had the indispepsia so bad she couldn’t live, and the 
doctor just made her smoke.” And so she talked. 
Horatio was surprised enough when Mr. Branford 
walked in with a big rabbit that he had shot, a bullet- 
hole between its eyes, and the red blood staining the 
white hair; and then he could see by the shadows 
through the little seven - by - nine window that the 
winter’s day was done. His mind was ablaze with a 
strangely delightful sensation, and one he never felt 
before. The afternoon had gone before he knew it. 
He was conscious that he had been talking, and that 
he had talked well, and that he had been near a hand- 
some young lady who was very sensible indeed. 

“Won’t you stay and take a bite with us?” said 
Mrs. Branford, turning her metallic eyes on him and 
shaking the serpentine locks. “ We an’t going to have 
nothin’ but pudden and milk, but pudden and milk’s 
mighty good when you’re hungry,” and she pointed to 
the kettle in the left-hand hole of the cook-stove, full 
to the brim with a wholesome paste of yellow Indian- 
meal mixed with water, which was bubbling and hiss- 
ing as the old lady gave it an occasional stir with a 
short piece of broom handle. 

Horatio excused himself as he remembered that his 
team had to be fed, and left immediately, after shaking 
hands with the old lady and bowing stiffly to Celia 
and her father. 

When he reached the road through the woods, he 
was lost in thought. Evidently there was something 
in this world that he had not taken into account in 
his theorising. Of course he knew that there were 
women and girls, and some time in the distant future 
he had expected to fall in love with one of them, but 


42 


TPIE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


generally be had thought of them much as he had of 
the stars, or the flowers in a hothouse, or a beautiful 
bird in a cage — objects that God had made to beautify 
and adorn the world and make it happier, and make 
men and boys better, but he had never been very close 
to a girl, and on general principles he was afraid of them. 
Ife knew his mother was the sweetest and kindest 
and best woman in the world, and he thought very 
likely all women were more or less good, but still he 
did not know. Miss Appleton, next to his mother, 
had always been his best friend, but he would as soon 
think of falling in love with the beautiful Venus that 
he watched at night in the sky as with Miss Appleton, 
for he had known her ever since he was knee-high to a 
grasshopper, and she was old enough to be his mother, 
or at least his aunt. 

When he retired at night to his bed on the hemlock 
boughs, he could not sleep. Ever since he was a boy 
he had been in the habit of saying over and over the 
Lord’s Prayer when he was troubled in his mind at 
night, and this time he repeated it a dozen times to 
himself before he fell into a slumber that was broken 
by dreams of a beautiful princess who came to him 
under the palm-trees and offered him a crown of gold, 
and then they both sailed away together through the 
air on the back of an immense bird, whose wings were 
forty feet from tip to tip. 

The days were getting longer and longer, and the 
roads were bare in spots where the sun shone directly 
on them. On the bank of the Embarrass the pile of 
logs was getting so it stretched down the river for a 
(jiiarter of a mile or more. The foreman had a “ stint 
of so many hundred thousand that he had to get in 
before the thaw, but that had been completed, and now 
be had another. In the woods the roads were still 
fairly good, but under the trees the snow had begun to 
sink down, and it was covered with black specks, and 
whenever the wind blew from the south the air was 


AND THEN HE MEETS AN ANGEL 43 

soft and spring-like, and the snowstorms came less 
frequently. 

At the close of the next spelling-school Horatio 
made a break. When the teacher started to get lier 
shawl and overshoes, he suddenly followed her to the 
little hat-rack near the door where the children hung 
their bonnets and dinner-pailSj and in a confused voice 
asked — 

“ Miss Branford, may I see you home ? ” 

Celia smilingly consented, and so naturally and easily 
that the lights swam before his eyes, and he pretended to 
look into the big Webster’s dictionary to calm himself. 

The teacher waited until every one else had gone, 
when she put out the last candle and locked the door, 
and they started. Just outside the door Horatio was 
electrified when something struck him back of his ear. 
It was a piece of an icicle thrown by some one from be- 
hind the school-house, and Horatio thought at once of 
the young man from across the creek, who had watched 
him when he went to speak to the teacher. Before he 
reached the bend in the road he felt something cold 
and wet trickling down his neck and congealing in the 
frosty air on his shirt-collar, and he knew it was blood, 
but the thought of the little hand in the pretty red 
knitted mitten resting so quietly and cosily on his arm 
comforted him. At first they did not keep step to- 
gether, and when he tried to walk more slowly Celia 
broke step, but finally he adjusted his gait to hers. 
Then he felt her dear little crinoline against his knee, 
and it thrilled him to the roots of his hair. A cannon- 
ball might have shot away that limb after that, and he 
would not have felt it. 

Celia told him many sweet little things on the way 
home, and they talked together as if he had always 
known her. The Smiley girls were going to give a 
party, and he was going to be invited, and school would 
be out in three weeks, and then she was going to New 
London to visit her aunt. 


44 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


When they reached the little house on the creek, the 
old lady was still sitting by the stove with her pipe, 
and Horatio said “good-night ” in a buoyant frame of 
mind. 

As he followed the solitary road through the pine 
woods that night he said to himself — for he was a youth 
— “ This is life. This is joy. This is happiness. This 
is from God. I must be worthy of it. ’ And he looked 
up at the shining stars and wondered how any one 
could really want to die and leave this world when 
there were so many things here to make a body happy. 


CHAPTER IV 

A VISITOR FROM BELOW 

Just as it was getting dark one night about a fort- 
night later, Horatio stopped his team near the sheds 
and was about to unhitch the horses, when he heard 
the tinkle of sleigh-bells coming up the road. In a 
minute or two a big pair of grey horses came in sight, 
followed by a sleigh loaded with bags and boxes, and 
the driver reined up to speak to him : 

“ Hello, Hod ! Is that you ? ” 

Horatio saw a sandy-complexioned young man, with 
a thin weedy moustache about the colour of the hair 
on a deer’s stomach, and the faint suburbs of a pair of 
burnside whiskers outlined on his face. 

“ Hello yourself. You’ve got the advantage of me.” 

“ Oh, Hod, you old fraud ! Don’t you know me ? 
Why, it’s good for sore eyes to see you.” 

And Lars Johnson jumped out and grasped him by 
the hand, which he shook vigorously with a pump- 
handle motion. 

“ Well, I declare, Larry, I never should have known 
you with those whiskers. How’s your body ? ” 

Horatio himself had raised a glossy black moustache. 

“ Fine as silk. How’s yourself ? ” 

“Middlin’. What you been drivin’at since I saw you?” 

“Been a journalist,” taking out of his waistcoat- 
pocket a printer’s rule, and whistling with the rule 
held against his lips. 

“ A what ? ” 

“ Been in tlie newspaper business.” 

“ You don’t say so ? “ 



45 


46 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“ Fact ! Tell you how it was. Whoa there, Jim. 
Stand still, can’t ye ? You know after you left Osh- 
kosh, I was out of a job ’n I didn’t want to go into 
the woods, so I thought I’d learn a trade, ’n the next 
Monday morning I went to the North- JVtstern office, 
and sez I, ‘ Please, sir, do you want to hire a boy ? 
Me father’s broke his leg, ’n I’ve got to work.’ 

‘ Get out o’ here,’ sez Frank Davis ; ‘ you’re the 
fourth boy that’s been here this inornin’ looking for a 
job. Scat ! ’ 

“ Then off I goes to the Rev mu, the Secesh paper. On 
niy way over, sez I to myself, sez I, ‘ Larry, old boy, 
you an’t got no gall. Brace up, I tell you. You wan’t 
born in a cellar to be afraid of a rat’ So up I goes to 
old Swineford. You know him, the fellah with a blue 
mark under his eye. Now, I knew the Dimmycrats 
was feelin’ pretty blue, ’cause McClellan had been turned 
under by old Abe ; so I put on a bold face, when I found 
the editor settin’ at a little table with a paste-pot and 
a pile o’ papers, and sez I, ‘ Old man, want to hire an 
editor ? ’ and I put both me thumbs in the holes of me 
vest, as independent as a pig on ice. 

“ Swineford he just grabbed a chunk of an electro- 
type an’ looked mad, and I thought he’d lick me; but 
when he turned an’ saw me, his eyes kind o’ twinkled, 
an’ sez he — 

“ ‘ What for ? ’ 

Sez I, ‘ To run your paper for you.’ 

“ ‘ What’s your politics ? ’ sez he. 

“ ‘ Dimmycrat to the backbone.’ 

“ ‘ How do I know you’re a Democrat ? ’ sez he. 

“‘Try me and see.’ 

“ ‘ How shall I try you ? ’ sez he. 

“‘Ask me to take somethin’.’ 

“ ‘ How do you take it ? ’ sez he. 

“‘Stiaight, every time.’ 

“‘What's the first duty of a Democrat?’ sez he. 

“‘ To use good liquor.’ 


A VISITOR FROM BELOW 


47 


* And the second ? ’ 

"‘Vote early an’ vote often.’ 

‘ By Jiminy,’ sez he, ‘ you’ll do.’ 

Then he called Len Crary, the foreman, an’ sez he — 
‘ Leu, give this boy a case. He’s got lots o’ gristle.’ 

“AVell, 1 took off me coat, and in five minutes I was 
spittin’ tobacco-juice on the floor and leai nin’ the boxes. 
In a little while I could set reprint, an’ one day the 
old man gave me a piece of his manuscript to set up. 
Would you believe it ? I could read every word of it, 
and after that he was awful good, and give me show- 
tickets, an’ used to brag about me to visitors. But one 
day when I was settin’ a piece o’ fat, regular leaded 
reprint, Len sings out, when he was niakin’ up an 
inside form — 

“ ‘ Larry, come here.’ 

“ I went to him, an’ he says, twistin’ his big mushtash — 

“ ' You go an’ get that roller and wash it in the sink, 
an’ be sure you git off every blasted bit o’ ink, or I’ll 
break every bone in your body.’ 

“Sez I, ‘You’re another,’ for I drew the line on 
washin’ rollers. 

“ Len he reached for the shootin’-stick and I for the 
door, and my resignation was unanimously accepted 
without further debate. Swineford owes me six dollars 
for two weeks’ work, but he can just stick it in his ear, 
for all I care, condemn him ! Next day I hired out to 
the Gang Mill folks, and they sent me up here, and 
thus endeth the first lesson, brethren.” 

Just then an ox-team passed by to the shed, the nigh 
ox, a big brindle fellow, bellowing loudly, with his tail 
high in the air. 

Horatio came out of the shed where he had put up 
his horses just as Lars jumped into the deep snow by 
the side of the road and began to kick backwards with 
both feet. 

“Insatiate monster I” said he; “would not one 
suffice ? ” 


f 


48 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“ What’s the matter, Larry ? ” 

“ Cut my foot in a Dutchman’s razor.” 

Horatio laughed, and helped him while he applied 
a salve of soft snow, and the young men went in to 
supper after a modest toilet, performed with a tin 
])asin, a crash towel, and the little cracked mirror. 

Lars Johnson was a year younger than Horatio. He 
came of Norwegian parentage, and in the ward schools, 
the printing-office, and a course of desultory reading, 
he had picked up a smattering of many things, and 
the attrition of Western life had given a stimulus to 
his good and bad qualities alike, so that he appeared 
much older. 

After supper they started with a lantern for the 
sheds to bed the horses, and Lars asked — 

“ Any pretty girls around here, Hod ? ” 

Horatio was shocked. He was glad that it was 
dark, so Lars could not see his face, but he answered 
evasively — 

“ There’s a party Saturday night, and I’ll get a bid 
for you, and then you can see for yourself.” 

“ Come now. Hod ; none o’ that. Own np, honest 
Injin. What’s her name, anyway ? ” 

It seemed like blasphemy to Horatio for this rattle- 
brained fellow to talk to him on such a subject, and he 
could not think of mentioning Celia’s name, or permit 
that pure and gentle creature to be made the subject 
of rude joking. He thought he w^ould have it out 
with Lars right then and there ; so he turned, and with 
flashing eye said deliberately — 

‘'Now^ Lars Johnson, just mind your own business, 
will you ? ” 

“ Ho ! ho ! ho ! Hod Juniper,” laughed Larry. “ Who’d 
a thought it? Well, I s wow to gracious ! An’t it funny 
when you feel that way ? Here’s my hand for ninety 
days, and I’m your huckleberry from the word go.” 

He was so good and kind about it that Horatio took 
the proffered hand and felt greatly relieved. 


A VISITOR FROM BELOW 


49 


The truth was that Horatio was now either at the 
school-house or the little log cabin by the creek when- 
ever he had any spare time, hie walked home regularly 
with Celia from spelling-school, and his Sunday after- 
noons were passed in her company. 

Spring was coming. A few blue-jays had been seen, 
and the woodpeckers were screaming loudly and ham- 
mering away on the dead trees. Lars had come up 
from below with the last load of supplies, and the men 
in the camp were talking about what they would do in 
Oshkosh after they were paid off. 

The next day the long road was so bad that the 
horse-teams had to give up hauling; and while the 
men were shovelling snow Horatio put up his team, 
and then, as it was about five o’clock, and as no one 
was around, he started for Mr. Branford’s to tell Celia 
about Lars, and to get him invited to the party. 

He found Celia in a pretty new calico dress with 
a pink bow at her throat, and both sleeves rolled up, 
making a batch of doughnuts, a kettle of lard sim- 
mering away on the back of the stove, and the old 
lady on the other side enveloped in a cumulus of grey 
smoke. 

Xever had the dear girl seemed so angelic. Why is 
it that a young woman always looks the most attractive 
to her masculine admirer when she is engaged in some 
kind of domestic labour ? Horatio, like the swain in 
“ She Stoops to Conquer,” felt his cmculation increase 
as he watched the delicate white arms and the sweet 
face gently flushed by the heat of the stove. She made 
him sit near her on a chair, for she could not stop her 
work or else the fried cakes would be heavy ; but when 
she rolled her sleeves farther up and showed him her 
vaccination mark — a great round, white spot, like a fish’s 
scale — his heart almost stood still, for he never before 
had advanced so far in feminine confidence. 

It was all arranged that she was to send word to the 
Smiley girls, and that her friend Teachie Kitchie was 

D 


50 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


to take tea with her, and then Horatio and Lars were 
to come after them with the span of greys, and they 
were all to go to the party together, and Teachie was 
to stay all night with her. 

Saturday morning came off clear and cold with a 
strong west wind. The men put in a lively day’s work, 
and it was late before the span of greys could be fed 
and rubbed down, but two young men drove up to the 
Branford place about eight o'clock. 

The two girls were all ready. The introduction over, 
the four were soon snug under the buffalo robes in the 
long bob-sleigh, Horatio driving, with Lars by his side 
and the young ladies in the rear. Celia had her head 
and shoulders wrapped in a blue merino arrangement, 
like a Havelock, trimmed with a crocheted border of 
Germantown yarn of a darker shade, made from a 
pattern she had found in Petersm's Magazine, and 
Teachie, whose real name was Letitia, wore a red knit 
hood, that set off her sparkling black eyes and red 
cheeks to good advantage. The crisp cold atmosphere 
was like red wine to the nerves, and the party were in 
the best of spirits. 

“ Oh, my ! isn’t it cold,” said Teachie, pulling the 
buffalo over her head, as the greys started of with a 
merry tintinnabulation of their two strings of bells. 

“ Why don’t you cover it up ? ” asked Lars. 

The sound of suppressed laughter could be heard 
under the buffalo, and this annoyed Horatio as much 
as the question Lars had asked. When a young lady 
said it was cold, she did not mean her ear or her chin, 
or even her toe, but the weather, and it was very rude 
in Lars, and not at all nice in the young ladies to laugh 
at such a question. 

When they arrived at the Smiley place, after a brisk 
ride in the crackling ice and snow, the young ladies 
were left at the door, while Horatio and Lars drove the 
horses to a neighbouring tree where the animals were 
tied and blanketed. 


A VISITOR FROM BELOW 


51 


She’s a pretty nice girl,” said Lars as he tightened 
the surcingle on the off horse, “ but she isn’t half as 
fine-looking as the other one.” 

“ Who do you mean ? ” 

“ Why, don’t you suppose I know which one it is ? 
You haven’t said a word to me about her, but I could 
tell in a minute. Besides, a fellah with a black 
mushtash isn’t goin’ to fall in love with a black-eyed 
girl.” 

At the door they stood for two or three minutes, 
each insisting that the other should go in first, and 
finally Lars rapped and went in, closely followed by 
Horatio. 

Jennie Smiley met them, and Horatio said — 

“ Good evening. Miss Smiley. I’ll make you ac- 
quainted with Mr. Johnson, my friend.” 

Miss Smiley introduced him to her sister Fannie 
and then to Alice Newton and Mattie Kendrick, who 
were sitting near the stove, and afterwards to her 
brotlier, Jim Smiley, and her cousin, Mr. Crane, an 
older man with a short sandy beard who lived near 
Mukwa, and then to Mr. Wilson, a wild-looking young 
man with moccasins on his feet. 

Miss Smiley was deeply distressed. She had planned 
to have dancing, but Ben had not come back from 
New London. Ben was her older brother, and he was 
a witness in a lawsuit about a yoke of steers, and he 
had promised to play for them. His fiddle was here, 
and could either of you gentlemen play ? 

“ The only thing I can play on,” said Lars gravely, 
“ is a knife and fork.” 

Horatio and his friends were the last arrivals, and 
after the introductions the usual awkward pause fol- 
lowed. It was broken by Teachie Eitchie, who, after 
a whispered consultation with Miss Smiley, proposed 
that they play “ Hurly-burly.” Then followed “ Who’s 
got the "button?” “Spat ’em out o’ the Boom,” and 
“ King William was King James’s Son.” In all these, 


52 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


the penalty imposed upon the delinquent was a sen- 
tence to kiss some of the opposite sex in the room. 

Then Miss Smiley brought in a tray of glasses and 
a big white pitcher filled with York State cider, and 
Celia followed with a plate of doughnuts, and as she 
passed them to Horatio he noticed a mischievous smile 
on her face, as if he had seen the doughnuts at another 
time. 

Before the festivities were resumed, the girls went 
into the other room, two by two, and returned arm in 
arm, as they always do at a party, with a look of lamb- 
like innocence on their pretty faces. 

AVhen they had all returned, Lars whispered some- 
thing to Miss Smiley, and she announced in a loud 
voice that we will now play conundrums, and Mr. 
Johnson will show us how. 

Lars arranged the boys to sit in one row and the 
girls in another, facing each other, with Miss Smiley 
opposite at the end as judge. Horatio was at one end 
and Lars at the other. 

Horatio had to ask the first question. Any question 
was admissible, and a failure to answer correctly in- 
curred a penalty. 

“ What’s the complexion of a peanut ? ” 

Miss Eitchie answered — 

“ Eed.” 

“ Wrong — it’s a blonde.” 

Miss Smiley sentenced her to make a side -hill plow 
with her brother, Jim Smiley. 

Alice Newton asked Mr. Crane — 

“ How do you turn a key to lock a trunk ? ” 

“ To the right,” and the poor fellow was ordered to 
kiss Miss Eitchie — Scotch fashion. The Sawnie ap- 
proached his victim as if he were walking in his sleep. 
The girl covered her face with both her hands, and the 
kiss fell harjiilessly on her chignon. 

“Why does a young lady sit on the floor to put on 
her stockings ? ” Jim Smiley asked of Mattie Hendrick. 


A VISITOR FROM BELOW 


53 


Miss Kendrick objected that the question was not a 
conundrum because there was no answer to it. Objec- 
tion sustained by the judge. 

Fannie Smiley asked Mr. Wilson — 

‘‘ How do you turn the key when you wind a watch?” 

Mr. Wilson remembered the mistake about locking 
a trunk, so he answered boldly — 

“ Turn to the left, of course.” 

He was doomed to eat cherries with Celia Branford. 
Celia objected, and in the struggle the kiss was de- 
posited on the tip of her right ear. 

Then came Lars Johnson — 

“ Miss Branford, will you be kind enough to inform 
the company how you can tell the age of a young lady 
by her hoop-skirt ? ” 

The gentlemen laughed, and the ladies vigorously 
protested that it was not fair. The judge called up 
the culprit, and asked him the answer. 

“ By counting the number of beautiful springs that 
have passed over her head,” said Lars. 

He was sentenced to go to Kome for such an out- 
rageous conundrum, and when he had kissed three of 
the girls, Miss Smiley appeared at the door with some- 
thing hot in a milk-pan, and Lars desisted. 

The young people were all seated except Miss 
Smiley and her sister. From the milk- pan on the 
table a savoury smoking substance was ladled out 
into saucers and served to the guests. It proved to 
be fresh maple-wax. Ben had tapped a few lock- 
maple trees for the girls at the time of the thaw, and 
the delicious sap had been boiled down in a kettle 
on the stove, and it now appeared in rich warm golden 
sunny sweetness, the memory of which, if a man par- 
take thereof, lingers in his mind through good report 
and evil report, yea, even unto death itself. 

A few minutes was all that could be spared even 
to the delightful diversion of the wax, for the restless 
spirit of the young stopped not for trifles. 


54 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Miss Newton, sitting in the corner of the room, with 
her face turned sidewise to the company, and looking 
directly at Fannie Smiley, began singing, “Tramp, 
tramp, the boys are marching.” As the first notes 
of the song broke upon the ear, conversation stopped, 
and the picture presented by the young girl in a red 
Jacket, with a sweet modest face and rolls of dark 
hair, gazing abstractedly at her companion, was one 
good to look upon as she sang in a low subdued 
voice : — 

“ In my prison cell I sit, 

Thinking, mother, dear, of you, 

And the bright and happy home so far away, 

And the tears will fill my eyes, 

Spite of all that I can do, 

Though I try to cheer my comrades and be gay. 

Tramp, tramp, tramp, 

The boys are marching, 

Cheer up, comrades, they will come, 

They will come. 

And beneath the starry flag. 

We shall breathe the air again, 

Of the free land in our own beloved home.” 

The rude sentiment of the song, almost pathetic 
in its tenderness, touched a responsive chord in every' 
breast, for the black desolation of the war had cast 
its shadow over every household, and the memory' of 
a brother in Libby Prison, or Salisbury, or Anderson- 
ville, or the recollection of the living skeleton who had 
returned from one of those horrible dens, gave a melan- 
choly' interest to the words. 

Then followed another song, unlike, but still plaintive, 
and well suited to blend with the feeling of sadness 
which prevailed, as Lars J ohnson, in a fresh tenor voice, 
struck up “ Nellie Gray ” : — 

“ There’s a low green valley on the old Kentucky shore, 
Where I’ve whiled many a happy hour away, 

A-sitting and a-singing by the little cabin door, 

Where lived my darling Nellie Gray. 


A VISITOR FROxM BELOW 


55 


Oh, my poor Nellie Gray, they have taken you away, 

Anti I’ll never see my darling any more. 

They have taken her to Georgia for to wear her life away 
As she toils in the cotton and the cane.” 

But the spirits of the young people suddenly re- 
sumed their normal level as Jim Smiley began the 
words of another popular song : — 

“ Dearest mother, you may never 
Wash my dirty shirt again.” 

Then Miss Kendrick, who wore glasses and had 
written some verses that had been published in the 
New London Times, was called upon by Miss Smiley. 
Miss Kendrick proposed that the next game should 
be writing poetry. Some one would write a line, her 
neighbour must then write a line to rhyme with it, and 
so the paper would go around the room, and when each 
had written, the whole composition would be read aloud 
by the last one who received it. 

The proposition was received with a loud storm of 
“ Good gracious ! ” “ Sakes alive 1 ” 

“ Did you ever ? ” said Teachie Eitchie. 

“ Ko, I never did,” said Lars Johnson ; “ but I’ve 
often thought I’d like to.” 

Miss Eitchie looked as if she had swallowed a fish- 
bone. 

Then turning to Miss Kendrick, who seemed crest- 
fallen because her pet project was not readily adopted, 
he said — 

‘"Miss Kendrick, I’ll begin.” 

And after perfect quiet was restored, he sang out— ■ 

“Here I stand before Miss Ritchie, 

She’s goin’ to kiss, an’ I feel itchy.” 

Before the noise of the laughter had died away, the 
dog outside began to bark, the music of bells could 
be heard, and the sound of horses’ feet, and a sleigh 


56 


T]IE MAX FROM OSHKOSH 


stopped ill the road. Miss Smiley hurried to the door 
and exchiined joyfully — 

“ It’s Ben ! It’s Ben!” 

Ben came in as soon as he had slipped the hitching- 
strap around a tree. He was a big, doltish fellow, with 
sleepy eyes, full brown beard, and immense boot-packs, 
outside of which was a pair of blue woollen socks. 

Miss Smiley came forward from the other room while 
Ben stood warming his wrists over the stove. She 
carried in her hand, suspended by a brass ring, some- 
thing black that looked like a baby's coffin. 

“ All right, Sis, seein’ it’s you,” said Ben, pulling off 
his socks and taking out the violin and picking on the 
E string with his thumb. “Just you give me a swig 
o’ that cider. Hain’t had a bite o’ nothin’ since noon.” 

It was the work of a moment to organise a set for a 
cotillion. Lars invited Teachie, Horatio danced with 
Celia, Mr. Crane with Fannie Smiley, and Mr. Wilson 
with Alice Newton. It then transpired that as soon 
as the subject of writing poetry was announced, IMr. 
Wilson had put on his overcoat and comforter, and 
Alice Newton had on her heavy jacket and hat, but 
she kept them on jiist the same. 

Loud and clear sounded the notes of the violin, as, 
after three or four minutes of scraping wiih one hand 
on the keys, during which the noise resembled the faint 
and familiar squeal of a butchered pig, Ben struck up 
that inspiring air, “ The Arkansaw Traveller.” 

Lars called ofl^ — 

“First couide — forward and back 1 Forward again ! 
Do, see do! Allamand left ! Side couple — forward and 
back ! Forward again ! Do, see do! Allamand left !” 

Tlien there was a stop for a moment, and Ben struck 
up “ Di.xie's Land.” The bow of the old violin seemed 
to speak with the tongues of men as it trotted up and 
down over the stomach of the fiddle, and Ben swayed 
his huge body from right to left, and from left to right 
again until great beads of perspiration gathered upon 


A VISITOR FROM BELOW 5/ 

his forehead, and his huge right foot beat time on the 
floor loud enough to be heard on the next forty. 

The third change had “ Kingdom Coming ; ” and the 
fourth was a jig to the “ Devil’s Dream,” the latter 
played in such quick time that the dancers seemed to 
be running a race with the music ; and at last the music 
stopped short, when the young people were mixed in 
confusion inextricable, much to the general hilarity. 

Another set followed, with a change of partners; 
and then, as it was eleven o’clock, there was a quiet 
shuffling and putting on of rubber overshoes, overcoats, 
tippets, mittens, shawls, and fur caps. J ust as the door 
was about to be opened for the general departure, a 
sharp sound was heard, and old Ben was seen tapping 
with his bow on the back of the violin. Lars Johnson, 
standing by his side, shouted — 

“ Take partners for a quadrille, ‘ Home, Sweet 
Home ! ’ ” 

The music all seemed to be played in double-quick 
time, and the grotesque figures, in overcoats and winter 
wrappings, trod the boards with nimble feet, and the 
flushed faces and sparkling eyes testified to the enjoy- 
ment of the last as the best of all. 

When Horatio lay upon his bed of hemlock-boughs 
that night, after this unusual dissipation, there was 
just a shade of disappointment in his mind as he re- 
called the many distracting events of the evening. It 
was about his friend Lars Johnson. Everybody in 
Oshkosh always said that Lars was as smart as a 
steel trap, and Horatio admitted to himself that there 
was truth in the remark; but it did seem as if a 
perfect stranger, like Lars, might have a little more 
diffidence, without seriously injuring his usefulness. 
To think how Lars had been continually talking or 
singing, or putting himself forward to attract the 
attention of the girls, really hurt the feelings of the 
sensitive Horatio; and for the first time since he had 
met Celia, he had discovered something in her actions 


58 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


which he felt almost like criticising, as he thought how 
she laughed at Lars, and never showed the least sign 
of disapproval when he made any of his ridiculous 
speeches. Any one could say funny things, Horatio 
thought, by putting his mind on it. He had read 
jokes enough in Ayer's Almanac to amuse a crowd 
of girls for a week, but he never had used one of 
them. And his singing ? Horatio could not sing any 
more than a crow; but if he could, he doubted if he 
would like to make himself so conspicuous among 
strangers. 


CHAPTER V 


THE TRAILING ARBUTUS 

In a few days the last log was hauled to the bank. 
Lars and most of the men left for Oshkosh with the 
sleds and part of the outfit. Horatio and two others 
remained to get the shanties ready for the drive. 

Sleighing was all gone. Piles of snow yet remained 
in the woods, and the river was still frozen over, 
although the ice was rotten, and the fierce March wind 
and the long sunshiny days were rapidly drying the 
roads. There was a fresh, woodsy smell in the air, and 
at times, when the sun was shining through the lofty 
pines, one could fancy that spring had really come. 

The Indians had made their appearance, a sure sign 
of the breaking up of the long winter. They came in 
crowds of twenty or thirty at a time — men, women, 
and children, evidently several families together — 
slowly riding on their low, stunted ponies, single file, 
the men in red and white blankets and leather leggings, 
with their cheek-bones smeared with red and yellow 
ochre, and the long black hair stuck through with 
feathers, and the women wearing beads of shell, their 
papooses strapped on the back, the family supplies 
carried by docile, heavy-laden ponies, each provided 
with a small tinkling bell, and the whole procession 
carefully attended by a score or more of half-starved, 
wolfish-looking dogs, big and little, with long, three- 
cornered ears, smelling at every object on the way, and 
growling suspiciously at any white man ; and after 
they had passed out of sight, and the tinkle of the 
last bell was low on the ear, the air seemed full of the 

59 


6o 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


smoky smell of the wigwam. Every Spring and Fall 
these poor gypsies of the forest made a pilgrimage to 
the north or south to make maple-sugar or to pick 
cranberries, and their movements indicated the change 
of the seasons as surely as the flight of wild-geese or 
the return of the red-breasted robin. 

One Sunday afternoon Celia told Horatio of a beau- 
tiful poem she had been reading. It was about the 
trailing arbutus, the wonderful plant that throws out 
its exquisite blossoms of coral and gold in the midst of 
ice and snow. Horatio promised to get some of the 
flowers for her. He believed it was to be found in the 
woods near by, but Celia was doubtful, for she had 
never heard of it, except in books. Before he left, it 
was agreed that Horatio would call on Tuesday after- 
noon, and they would go in search of the arbutus. 

Wlien Horatio, on his return to the camp, noticed 
the destruction that had been made in the pine during 
the past winter, a feeling of regret came over him. 
He would like to return here again for two or three 
winters. The Clapp & Judkins people were as good 
men as he ever wanted to work for, and he hoped they 
would lumber in this neighbourhood right along every 
year. It was certainly very pleasant for the men. 

They walked up the road toward Mukwa, Tuesday 
afternoon, and turned off’ to the left where the land 
was higher. It was out of the pine timber, or at least 
where the pine-trees were scarce and mixed with the 
beautiful white-backed birch, the soft maple, and an 
occasional slippery elm and basswood. Now and then 
a granite rock could be seen, raising its brown head 
out of the snow which still lingered in piles, and the 
land became more uneven and slightly hilly. 

Celia wore her school-dress, the brown one trimmed 
with plaid. She talked to him in her bright, sparkling 
manner, and as he walked by her side carrying the 
basket in which they were to bring back the arbutus, 
it suddenly dawned upon him that Celia really cared 


THE TRAILING ARBUTUS 


6l 


more for him than she did for Jim Smiley, or Lars, or 
any of the other young men. It seemed a novel and 
delightful sensation, this feeling of quiet possession 
and confidence, and the strange thought that there was 
some one in the world, besides his mother, who could 
be close to him and confide in him, and some one he 
could lake into his secret thoughts. 

She told him of her ambition. It was to fit herself 
to be a teacher. She had l^een earning |20 oo a month 
at the Corners, but times were hard and the District 
Hoard had not been able to pay her in ca-h, and she 
was obliged to take tax-certificates, and the. certificates 
were unsaleable, some of them, and so slie liad lost on 
them. What she wanted was to take a regular course 
and study music at the Appleton College, so that she 
would be fitted for a better school. True, she held 
a second-grade certificate, and Mr. AYernli, the cross- 
eyed county superintendent, had praised her work ex- 
travagantly, but she was determined to have a better 
education. Her brother was a lieutenant in the Thirty- 
Second, and he was very fond of her, and, if the war would 
only end, she knew he would send her to Appleton. 

“How quiet these old woods seem,” said Horatio, 
as the sound of a woodsman’s axe came echoing through 
the forest from a little clearing where there was a log- 
house. A thin line of blue smoke could be seen rising 
to the tops of the trees, and occasionally the bark of 
a dog in longer and louder notes was heard above the 
metiical reverberation that came from the axe as it 
struck the side of a tree. 

“Perhaps you like the woods,” said Celia, “but I 
have always wanted to live in a city where I could 
have some of the advantages of life. I confess I cannot 
see much attraction here.” 

“ I think it would be very pleasant to hide one- 
self in the deep woods with no one, only God and 
yourself. Then you could study and read without 
interruption. What a place it would be to study 


62 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Nature and to study one-self! Do you know, Miss 
Branford, I don’t believe we know ourselves half as 
well as we ought. I lemeniber when I first began to 
think about it. I found myself continually holding 
out my hands to be looked at and looking down at 
my feet, and crying, ‘ This is me, is it ? How strange.’ 
Then sometimes I could hear a voice calling, ‘ Horatio ! 
Horatio ! ’ I almost had to laugh sometimes, for it 
seemed funny to be calling myself, and yet it was the 
most natural thing in the world. It was when I first 
began to realise that I had a mind and could think, 
and for months and months it gave me great amuse- 
ment to speak to myself as if I were talking to another 
person. My image in a mirror, at that time, seemed ' 
curious to me too. I looked at it as carefully as if I 
was working out a problem in algebra. I wondered 
as I studied it where the thinking part was, for I felt 
that the body itself was entirely different from the 
mind, and that it was perfectly natural for the mind 
to exist without tlie body. In late years, as I think 
of it, I believe it was only my soul getting acquainted 
with my body.” 

“ Of course the soul does exist after death,” said 
Celia, “ but I don’t see how it can be separated from 
the body in this world.” 

“ Perhaps not, but I am satisfied it acts separately 
any way. It comes into the body just as a family 
moves into a new house. The house is being con- 
stantly rebuilt and improved, and the tenant in a 
little while gets to think that the house is part of 
himself.” 

“ Did you ever talk to God, Miss Branford ? ” asked 
Horatio quietly, after a pause, as if it were the most 
natural thing in the world. 

“ No ; I don’t believe I ever did.” 

“ I have. And He has answered me, too. At least, 

I believe He has. Haven’t you ever had something 
happen to you that you knew had actually happened. 


THE TRAILING ARBUTUS 


<53 


and yet you never could tell anybody of it for the 
reason that you could not make them believe it as you 
did ? Well, I have talked right out to God. I know 
I was talking to Him, and I know He heard me, and I 
know He talked back to me. It was at night after I 
had gone to bed. I had said my prayers : but 1 felt 
so lonely and sad — it was just after my father died — 
that I wanted to reach up to some one who was 
stronger than I, and ask Him to help me ; so, with my 
eyes shut, and the house all still, there in the dark I 
said, ‘ Dear God, I love you, I trust you. I know you 
do all things well. My father is dead, my brother 
Henry is dead, Will is dead — I am troubled. Help 
me, dear God, in my sorrow ; ’ and then something 
answered, ‘Don’t lose hope; I am always near you.’ 
Now, what it was or who it was that spoke I cannot 
tell, but I heard the words as plainly as I hear your 
voice. It was not a w^hisper, and it was not a regular 
voice, such as you hear when a person speaks, but still 
I heard it and felt it clearly and naturally. I believe 
it was God.” 

“It must be strange,” said Celia, “to feel yourself 
near to God, and actually talking to Him and hearing 
Him talk.” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Horatio earnestly. “He 
is our Father, and we are His children, and I can’t see 
wdiy we shouldn’t talk to Him just the same as we 
would talk to a real father.” 

“ If all the world felt so,” said Celia, “ I am sure it 
w^ould be a better place to live in.” 

“ And then I died once,” he continued, as if he had 
not heard the remark. “At least, it seemed so to me. 
You see, I was playing one day when I was a little 
fellow, and Will, that was my brother, he threw a 
stone, not meaning to hurt me, and it struck me on the 
side of my head. I didn’t feel the blow, but when I 
came to, I’d had a very curious time. I was in a 
strange country, and there was a great temple made 


64 


THK .MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


of pure white marble, ever so many storeys high, and 
the yard was filled with the most beautiful flowers and 
big trees all covered with immense blossoms that filled 
the air with their fragrance, and birds twittered and 
sang in the mild southern air. Suddenly I heard girls’ 
voices commence to sing. Oh, such music ! Then I 
smelt camphor, and I felt mother rubbing my forehead, 
and I heard Will kind o’ crying, and I opened my eyes, 
and there I was at home again. But, I tell you, as 
long as I live I will remember that music ; and some- 
times, wdieii I am depressed, I wonder why I was 
awakened so soon, for I wish I could have heard more 
of it." 

He looked around among the trees and the broken 
rocks and the piles of snow, apparently unconscious 
of the young girl, whose great blue eyes were staring 
,at him in amazement. 

They had reached a place where the snow was deep, 
and Celia waited while Horatio climbed over a wind- 
fall, and into a little gully between tw^o hills where 
the rocks were close together. A loud shout advertised 
the fact that he had found something, and in a few 
minutes he returned to Celia’s side, bearing several 
branches of a trailing evergreen with its dark leaves 
and two or three sprays of the delicate rose-coloured 
blossoms of the arbutus. 

I first saw the leaves from here," said he, “ and the 
blossom itself was partially covered with snow." 

As they walked back with the beautiful flowers in 
her basket, he told her that the trailing arbutus was a 
native of the Hebrides and the Highlands of Scotland, 
and that it also grew in Siberia and Canada, and that 
it was called bear-berry, because the bears fed on its 
fruit, and that the partridges lived on the berries in 
the Fall. The scientific name for it was Arctosta]phylos 
uva ursi, which was only the Latin for bear-berry. 

As Celia inhaled the delicious odour of the arbutus 
in the basket, she thought that Horatio was a very 


THE TRAILING ARBUTUS 


65 


curious young gentleman, altogether different from the 
other young men, for they could talk only of logging, 
or dances, or the war. It must be a great thing, she 
thought, to live in a large city like Oshkosh, where 
you could read so much, and she was more than ever 
determined to take a college course at Appleton. 

When they reached the Mukwa road, Horatio was 
walking ahead, and in a strip of snow by the roadside 
he saw the prints of her little feet in their rubber over- 
shoes, where she had walked on the way out. If he 
had been alone, he would have knelt down and kissed 
them, but he contented himself with gazing at them 
reverently as he passed. 


CHAPTER VI 

HE GETS HIS FORTUNE TOLD 

On the next Sunday evening he was to take tea with 
the Branford family. Heretofore, he had declined all 
invitations to stay to supper, but now that the work at 
the camp was about done, he felt himself more at ease. 

He delayed starting until about four o’clock; but 
although he read the North-Western all through, in- 
cluding the advertisements, and tried to read a copy 
of Cowper’s Poems that Miss Appleton had given him 
• once as a Christmas present, the afternoon dragged, and 
he kept looking at the sun through the trees, and won- 
dering why it moved so slowly. 

Celia wore her black alpaca with the big buttons 
down the back and the blue ribbon at her throat. The 
delicate rose in her cheeks seemed fresher, and her 
sunny blue eyes sparkled as she met him at the door. 
The old lady had on the faded white silk kerchief, 
with the point hanging down behind, as she appeared 
in sight through the grey halo that surrounded her. 
The little table near the window had a white spread, 
and there were some queer blue china dishes that he had 
never seen before. On the clock-shelf, in a tumbler of 
water, he noticed the arbutus blossoms. 

About six o’clock the tea was served. The old man 
had stalked in and hung up his rifle on its hooks with a 
sigh. There was a smoking hot dish of fried venison- 
steak, with its dark rich gravy, mashed potatoes, white 
bread and yellow butter, and tea, with a plate of sponge- 
cake from a recipe that Celia had obtained from the 
66 


HE GETS HIS FORTUNE TOLD 


67 


Smiley girls, where you use so many eggs and so much 
flour and sugar, and cover with a piece of writing-paper 
in the oven, so it will not bake too fast. 

Horatio was seated opposite the young lady. This 
was the first time he had ever been at the table with 
Celia, and he could scarcely take his glance from her. 
The blue in her eyes seemed like the heavens above 
on a summer day, and the soft pink tinge in her cheeks 
harmonised well with the warm, rich waves of her hair, 
while the graceful undulations of her figure showed to 
good advantage in her closely fitting dress, and her 
arm and hand described a curve of natural softness 
and grace. 

And then to see her eat! Xever did a canary in 
a cage pick at its seed or dip its bill in the water or 
rub its head against the wires with more quiet ease 
and delicate daintiness than did this young girl as she 
disposed of her food under the ardent gaze of the young 
man across the table. 

He had heard about magnetism and magnetic physi- 
cians, who gave off magnetism to people near them, and 
whose subtle influence extended to every one within 
a radius of ten or fifteen feet, curing all sorts of ail- 
ments without the use of medicine or change of diet, 
but somehow Celia had an indescribable attraction 
that he thought w’as even greater than magnetism. 
It affected his gn cs, and he was afraid it might affect 
his will-power, and perhaps his mind. It was more 
like electricity than magnetism, and he wondered if 
he should point his forefinger at her forehead between 
the eyes, whether it would snap with a blue spark like 
the ball on a Leyden jar, such as they used in the elec- 
trical machine in school. 

He wondered how it was that her father could be 
so near her and seem to care so little about it, and 
whether a young lady looked the same to her parents 
as she did to others. 

Horatio never could tell how it came about, but he 


68 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


found himself greatly interested and afterwards shocked 
at what Mr. Branford said. The old man had owned 
a farm down in Sidanie, and to clear up a small in- 
debtedness on his land he had borro\\ ed some money 
from Deacon Bryant. Deacon Bryant was one of your 
smooth-talking men, who could take the lead in prayer- 
meeting and pick your pocket after prayer- meeting 
was over. He was always mouthing about serving the 
Lord when he was shaving notes at lO per cent, and 
a bonus. Mr. Branford had innocently fallen into his 
clutches, on the Deacon’s promise that he could have 
all the time he wanted, and the first he knew his farm 
was sold right out from under him. The Deacon was 
a humbug, the church was a humbug, and the prayer- 
meeting was a humbug. 

“ I don’t know,” said Horatio ; “ I think prayer is all 
right sometimes.” 

“Don’t do a bit o’ good,” said the old man. “Look 
at the prayers going up all over this land for our poor 
soldiers, and then see how they’ve suffered in Ander- 
sonville.” 

“I judge only by my own experience,” said the 
young man quietly. “ I know when I was a small boy 
I prayed for a pair of skates, and I got them. Many a 
time since then good straight praying for weeks and 
months has often brought me what I prayed for. In 
fact, I believe now that, after the proper time, if I do 
not get what I am praying for, it is only because it is 
not good for me. Once when I was very small I was 
taken sick, and as I was the youngest in the family I 
naturally received a great deal of petting and nursing, 
and it all pleased me very much. What do you sup- 
pose I did when I was w^ell enough to go to school 
again ? Why I just prayed to God every night that T 
might be sick again, for the petting and extra kind 
treatment was so pleasing that I wanted more of it. 
Now of course God was wiser than I, and I remained 
distressingly healthy until I had the measles. So I 


HE GETS HIS FORTUNE TOLD 69 

think many times we pray for something that is not 
good for us, and therefore we don’t get it.” 

“ Huh ! ” said Mr. Branford, “ perhaps you believe in 
angels, and miracles, and raising the dead, and all that 
nonsense.” 

“ I certainly believe in angels. I ought to, for I 
have seen one.” Horatio said it as unconsciously as if 
angels were as common as blackbirds. 

Celia began to think that the conversation was ap- 
proaching a dangerous point, for she knew her father’s 
religious views. 

You’ve seen one ? ” the old man asked, with almost 
a sneer. 

“Yes,” answered Horatio. “I have seen one with 
my own eyes. It was one night when I first began to 
work for Welt & Shelley. I had been to sleep, and 
about midnight I was awakened by a strange sort of 
feeling that there was some one in my room. I looked 
up and thought the moon was shining, for it was par- 
tially light, so I could see the chair by my bedside, the 
picture ‘ From Shore to Shore ’ that was hanging on the 
wall, and the piece of red ribbon that held back the 
window-curtain. Somehow I didn’t feel frightened 
but right in front of my bed, slowly walking up and 
down on the floor, was a figure in white, with a staff or 
something in its hand, and on its head a queer thing 
I never have seen anywhere, partly like a crown and 
partly like a dunce-cap. The person, whoever it was, 
had its eye on me, but gently and kindly, and as it 
turned at the end of the room to come back, it still 
kept watching me, as it moved quietly, almost without 
touching the floor. Now, this I saw with my own 
eyes, as plainly as I see you at this table. I always 
wonder why I was not afraid, but the feeling I had was 
rather one of pleasure. After several minutes I closed 
my eyes an instant, for I was tired, and it hurt my 
eyes to look at one object so intently, and when I 
opened them again the room was dark. I got up and 


70 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


went to the window, but it was as dark as pitch out- 
side, and I could only just make out the shape of the 
trees in the yard. I never have told any one about it 
except my mother,” he added, looking at Celia as if 
he had told it now only for her ears. 

“ What did your mother say about it ? ” asked the girl. 

“ That it was probably from God. She said the only 
thing to do when I saw anything of the kind was to 
say my prayers.” 

“Did you get any benefit that you know of from 
your angel ? ” The old man asked it with a little 
sarcasm in his voice. 

“ No, it did not affect me in any way that I could 
discover, except to make me believe in the existence of 
the angels.” 

“ I don’t care for that kind o’ angels,” said the old 
man doggedly. “What I want is an angel ’t can clear 
my land or chop my wood, or kill a deer for me. When 
an angel ’ll come and do that, then I’ll believe in ’em.” 

Horatio was about to express his opinion of angels 
in general, and to defend the reputation of the kind 
that he had seen in particular, when the old lady 
looked at him with her cat-like eyes, and said — 

“ ]\Ir. Jolliver, I am going to tell your fortune.” 

“ Ma has a fancy she can tell fortunes,” said Celia, 
explaining, “ and perhaps you would like to have her 
try yours ? ” 

“ I shall be glad to have you, Mrs. Branford,” replied 
Horatio smiling, “ on one condition, and that is that 
faith is not necessary on my part.” 

“ Don’t make no difference whether you believe it or 
not,” said the old ginseng- digger. “ If it works right, 
she’ll tell your future as easy as youcanreada newspaper.” 

“ Yes, Ma can read it,” said Celia ; “ but the trouble is, 
it may be your fortune, and it may be some one else’s.” 

Horatio was amused at the implicit faith of the old 
man in his wife’s capacity as a seer. It seemed strange 
to believe in fortune-telling, and not believe in the 
existence of angels. 


HE GETS HIS FORTUNE TOLD 7 1 

The old lady was carefully draining the last of her 
cup of tea. When it was finished, she turned the blue 
teacup bottom upwards in its saucer, and then placed 
her open hand edgewise on the bottom of the cup, 
mumbling something in a low voice to herself. The 
motion of her hand on the cup and the incantation 
were repeated twice, and then she rested. 

The young man watched the mummery with a feel- 
ing of contemptuous incredulity, which nothing but 
the presence of the young girl opposite prevented 
him from expressing. At first he supposed that the 
old lady intended to tell his fortune with a pack of 
cards, or by looking at the lines in the palm of his 
hand ; but when he saw that it was nothing but a 
teacup fortune, he began to pity the simple inno- 
cence of people who could believe in such things. 
He knew Celia could not take any stock in that non- 
sense ; only she was a good girl, and liked to please 
her mother. 

Mrs. Branford shook her serpentine locks, and raised 
the cup so that she could study the inside of it care- 
fully. Horatio could see that it was streaked with the 
tea grounds, but the old lady could evidently see more 
in it than he. 

Several minutes passed almost in silence as Mrs. 
Branford turned the cup from side to side, and finally 
appeared to be deeply interested in it. At last a 
shudder passed over her as her queer eyes seemed 
fastened upon the story of the teacup, and in the end 
she hurriedly threw it from her almost with a crash, 
and covered her face with her hands. 

Celia seemed annoyed, and a shadow passed over her 
placid face ; but the old man spoke up eagerly — 

“ What is it, mother ? Let’s have it.” 

The old lady took up the teacup again, and began 
gazing at the inside. 

“ It is a young man,” she said slowly. “ It must be 
George, for it is some one of this family. I see him 


72 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


very plainly. There’s a great deal of trouble behind 
him, and some before him. He is goiiT away, and I 
see him on a long journey to a foreign land; and” — 
her voice failed her as she gazed intently at the cup 
— “ there’s a coffin and death, and — it’s very strange ; 
it can’t be right — after that there is gold and money, 
and he comes back. I have left out some of the words, 
p’raps, for how could any one come back after he is 
dead. I don’t believe it’s George, for he’s away now. 
Dear me ! dear me ! ” 

“Never you mind, mother,” said Mr. Branford sooth- 
ingly. “ ]\Iebby you didn’t work it right. It can’t be 
George, anyhow, for he’s with Pap Sherman down in 
Noth Ca’lina.” 

Mrs. Branford had her elbow on the table, and was 
resting the side of her face in the palm of her hand. 
She mused in this position for two or three minutes, 
evidently trying to recall the formula she had used, to 
see what she had omitted. Finally, she poured out 
another cup of tea and proceeded to finish her supper. 

Celia began talking to Horatio about her proposed 
visit to New London. It had been postponed several 
times, but she was really going next week. 

The old ginseng-digger took his fork from his plate, 
and with one of its long tines began to pick his teeth. 
There was an unusual scowl on his face, and Horatio 
felt that the old man regarded him with aversion. It 
w'as evident that Mr. Branford had been disappointed 
in his hunting that afternoon, for it was very rare that 
he returned empty-handed with his rifle. The discu.f- 
sion at the table had not served to soften his feelings, 
and now tliat his wife’s fortune-telling had failed so 
ignominiously, after he had expressed his confidence in 
her ability, he was completely disgusted. 

Horatio was glad of an early opportunity to with- 
draw, for he could not avoid the impression that in 
some way he was responsible for the old man’s un- 
pleasant frame of jnind. 


CHAPTER VII 
AN IMPORTANT CLIMAX 

The sandy roads had become dry with the advance of 
spring. In the pine woods, where the winter chopping 
liad been done, it was interesting to see how high the 
stumps had been left, showing the great depth of the 
winter’s snow. The Embarrass was open in places, 
and a good rain would hood the river, so that the drive 
would start. 

On Saturday afternoon Horatio had called at the 
Branford cabin, and Celia had gone with him on a 
stroll through the woods, leaving the old lady sitting 
by the stove. Mr. Branford was in the woods. He 
was digging a little ginseng, although the ginseng dug 
in the spring was not so good, and did not bring so 
good a price as that marketed in the Fall. With his 
tomahawk he blazed a tree near any particularly good 
ginseng that he found, if he did not dig it, so that 
later in the season he could return to it. The old man 
always thought it a great shame that the storekeeper 
at iS^ew London would not pay more than forty cents a 
])Ound for spring ginseng and fifty cents a pound in 
the Fall, when it was worth its weight in silver over 
in China. 

As they walked along the Mukwa road, Horatio told 
the young lady that in another week he would start 
down the river. The drive would be ready as soon as 
the river opened. It would require several weeks to 
get the rear into the Main Wolf, and then from the 
mouth of the Embarrass to the Boom would take two 

73 


74 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


months, so that he would not get to Oshkosh much 
before the Fourth of July. 

“ I am sorry that you ever came here,” said Celia. 
“ I am sorry we ever met.” 

Horatio was shocked. Celia was looking steadily at 
some object in the distant woods to the right. 

“ Why, Miss Branford, what have I done ? I don’t 
see why you are sorry that I came. I am sure I never 
spent such a pleasant winter in all my life. I shall 
never forget these old woods, and these roads, and these 
walks, and the spelling-school, and the ” 

“Don’t speak about them,” interrupted Celia, still 
gazing intently upon something in the woods to the 
right. “ I hate to hear you mention anything that has 
happened during the past winter.” 

“Miss Branford,” said he, “if I have offended 


Celia turned, and he could see that the IMarch wind 
had affected her eyes, for they were moist, and her 
little nose seemed red, and she appeared greatly dis- 
turbed. 

“FTo, Mr. Juniper,” she replied, “you have not 
offended me. At least you have not offended me 

intentionally. But when I think of when you 

speak of of of going away Oh, dear 1 Mr. 

Juniper, I cannot help it. It makes me so lonely.” 
And the dear girl turned to look at something in the 
distant woods to the right, while the wind seemed to 
irritate her eyes still more. 

Suddenly a great white light seemed to illuminate 
Horatio’s mind. He hurriedly grasped her hand and 
sank in a dry spot by the side of the road with one 
knee of his overalls half covered with damp dead leaves, 
tind then, very much to his own astonishment, he said 
.in a low voice — 

“ Dear Miss Branford — Celia — I love you. I cannot 
live without you. Will you be my little wife ?” 

Celia had entirely recovered her self-possession. 


AN IMPORTANT CLIMAX 


75 


She grasped his hand warmly and looked him squarely 
in the eye. The wind had dried her eyes, but her 
little nose still looked red. 

“ Horatio,” she said, “ I think we can be happy 
together ; our tastes are alike. But there is one con- 
dition,” and she hesitated. 

“ What is it, darling ? ” 

“ Of course we cannot be married for many years. I 
must complete my education, and you must get a start 
in life.” 

“You are perfectly right,” said Horatio, changing 
to the other knee, “and that is exactly what I had 
thought of myself.” 

“ Then I am yours.” 

Horatio jumped up, rubbed the dead leaves from 
both knees, and putting his right arm around the waist 
of the brown dress with the plaid trimming, imprinted 
a warm kiss on the pure red lips. 

This was the way the hero had always acted after a 
proposal in all the novels he had ever read, and the 
two young people turned unconsciously, and walked 
slowly back toward the house. 

He had her arm, the first time he had ever taken it 
by daylight, but they were in the woods. 

“I think it is perfectly lovely to be engaged,” said 
Celia, chattering away in her own dear manner, “ and 
I shall always think of you going out into the world 
like a knight in the days of chivalry to win for your- 
self a name. I shall work hard and complete my 
education, and some time in the distant future we can 
marry.” 

“It is an easy matter,” said Horatio, “to make a 
future and to earn a reputation when a man has such 
a gift promised him. Celia, I love you as man never 
loved a woman before. The thought of you shall be 
my inspiration, and a smile from you my only reward.” 

“ It is real nice,” she said after a pause, “ that your 
tastes and mine are so much alike. We both love 


76 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


‘David Copperfield/ and we both like sponge-cake, 
and we both like maple-wax. I know we can be happy 
together. Do you remember the day we went after 
the arbutus ? Oh, how I wanted you to take my hand 
that afternoon, but you never offered to.” 

“When I am rich,” said Horatio, “you can keep a 
girl, and we’ll have Harper's Magazine, and I will get 
you a piano and a melodeon, and you can have com- 
pany as often as you like. I’ll buy me a house on 
Algoma Street, and keep a horse, and we’ll go to 
Florida in the winter-time.” 

And so they talked, dear souls, in the first warm 
sunshine of mutual love and confidence, arm in arm, 
in the twilight as tliey slowly wended their way to the 
little log-cabin by the creek. 


CHAPTER VIII 

IN WHICH HE RECEIVES A LETTER 

Horatio walked through the woods in the dusk, 
scarcely realising that he touched the ground. Here 
he was engaged to be married to the brightest and 
prettiest girl in Wisconsin, and he not yet twenty 
years old. Of course P. T. Earnum was married when 
he was nineteen, and Earnum said that it was his 
marriage that gave him his stai’t in life ; but still 
nineteen was very young. And then what would his 
mother say ? and Miss Appleton ? Wouldn’t they 
think him very foolish ? Perhaps they would, until 
they saw Celia, but he was sure they could not think 
so after they knew what a sweet girl she was. He 
would begin at once to save his money, for he realised 
that he could not marry until he could provide for a 
wife. Somehow he believed he had fever, for his pulse 
beat rapidly, and he wished he had a watch to count 
the pulsations. It must be about a hundred, he was 
sure. 

As he drew near the camp, he saw a strange team 
hitched to a light democrat waggon standing near the 
sheds. Coming closer, he saw that the horses were 
smoking with perspiration through their blankets, and 
the wheels were covered with fresh mud, showing that 
the team had been driven hard. 

A man with a slouch hat and a grey suit of clothes 
smoking a new clay-pipe came out of the camp. 

“ I s’pose you’re Hod J uniper, eh ? ” said he between 
puffs. “ I’ve come after ye from Oshkosh. Your 

77 


78 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


mother is not very well, and I’m to take you down 
below. Better get yer duds ready right off, and we’ll 
get back’s far’s New London to-night.” 

His mother ? The dear, kind, patient mother ! Sick ? 
Perhaps she would die. What if she should die ? The 
thought made him frantic. To think of her so ill that 
he should be sent for. He could think only of her, 
and for the moment the thought of Celia was banished 
from his mind. 

Supper was hurriedly eaten, and a few minutes 
sufiiced to pack his clothes and his few books in 
his bag, and they were ready. Taking a pencil and 
sheet of notepaper, he hastily scribbled a few lines to 
Celia : — 


“ iSIi.ss Celia Branford, — My dearest Celia (his fingers 
tingled as he wrote), I have just reed, news that my mother 
is very sick, and I start immediately for Oshkosh. I am 
sorry that I ciinnot see you before 1 go, hut I hope to return 
in a few weeks. I will write you as soon as I get there, 
and I shall think of you every moment. May God protect 
you ami be with you. Good-bye, mv darling. I love you. 

“ H. P. Juniper.’* 

One of the men in the camp promised to deliver 
the note the next morning, and the tired horses were 
started. I’or several miles they })roceeded leisurely 
through the woods, the man in the grey suit smoking 
vigorously, and Horatio buried in his own thoughts ; 
and as they reached better roads the horses warmed to 
their work, and trotted along at a lively pace, so that 
they drew up to the front door of the Angier House, 
near the bank of the river in New London, shortly 
after eight o’clock. 

Just before the team stopped, the man in a grey suit 
took a letter from the inside pocket of his coat and 
handed it to Horatio, saying — 

There’s a letter for ye that I’d most forgot. They 
give it to me just before I left down below.” 


IN WHICH HK RECEIVES A LETTER 


79 

With his bag in one hand and the letter in the other 
Horatio alighted, and entered the little bar-room of the 
Angier. A Ing cast-iron stove, long enough to absorb 
a stick of cord-wood, was in the centre, and half-a-dozen 
men, clad in the garb of teamsters or pinery men, sat 
around tlie rofun, all of them smoking, and the room 
was so filled with tobacco-smoke that it was several 
seconds before he could see through it. He made his 
way to the open register, where he inscribed his name 
and residence, and then by the light of one of those 
new-fashioned kerosene lamps he opened and read the 
letter : — 

“Oshkosh, March 2,1st. 

“ Dear Horatio, — I do not wish to alarm you unneces- 
sarily, but I think you had better come home at once. Your 
mother was taken sick last Friday, and the doctor says she 
is in a critical condition. She has not heen well all wiiitei-, 
although she would not give u[). I think it will do her 
good to see you. Come at once with Mr. Sanders. — Your 
friend, Theresa Appleton.” 

The letter alarmed him. Would she die ? The dear 
old mother, the last of his family ; the best mother a 
boy ever had ; was she to be taken from him ? His 
breath came fast and thick, and he went out to the 
open air, so that he could be alone, for the men in the 
hotel would think it strange if they saw tears in his 
eyes. 

As he walked aimlessly down the plank sidewalk, he 
suffered all the agony that would have been possible 
had he been assured of his mother’s death. His whole 
life and the recollection of his mother’s sorrow came 
before him — the silent grief that he had witnessed in 
the past three years — the gentle face and the quiet 
stricken manner, all rose before him as a vivid picture. 
He had written regularly to his mother every week 
but one since he left Oshkosh, and the thought had 
something of consolation in it. Her letters to him 


So 


THE AfAN FROAI OSHKOSH 


were brief, but they contained no intimation of failing 
health. 

At daybreak next morning the horses were hitched 
to the democrat waggon, and the two men were soon 
on the way to Oshkosh. A short stop for dinner and 
a brief rest for the team at a small hotel at the Corners, 
and then in the afternoon the jaded horses drove slowly 
into Oshkosh. The snow was all gone, but the streets 
were still muddy, and as they passed into Pearl Street 
Horatio noticed that one or two of the mills had started, 
and the shrill shriek of the circular saw, as it chawed 
its way like a demon through a big log, assured him 
that he was at home again. 

They stopped in front of the wood-coloured house 
among the Lombardy poplars, and before he jumped 
from the waggon, he noticed that tlie curtains were 
down in the front room. There was smoke coming 
out of the kitchen stove-pipe, so his mother must be 
at home. He thought he would go in quietly and 
surprise her. She would be very glad to see him, 
he knew, for he had been gone nearly five months. 
Would she recognise him in his black moustache ? 
He must not really scare her, for she was not well, 
but he would like to surprise her a little. 

A short bustling little man, whom Horatio had known 
as an emplcna' in a furniture-store on IMain Street, 
opened the kitchen-door as Horatio passed in the gate. 

“ The corpse is in the settin’-room,” he said in a low 
voice, “if you want to look at it.” 

In youth the tear ducts lie close to the surface, but 
they are soon emptied. As the young man threw 
himself in a frenzy upon the form of the dead, he 
thought for an instant that he would join his mother 
in the shadowy land of the next world, but the first 
paroxysm of his grief had passed when Miss Appleton 
came in. 

She had expected to meet him, and break the news 
to him as only the kindly spirit of woman can do it, 


IN WHICH HE RECEIVES A LETTER 8 1 

but he arrived just as she had left the house for a 
moment. She was all tenderness and affection, and 
Horatio followed her advice and directions as a blind 
man follows a guide. 

The next few days passed to him like one in a 
trance. In after years he could remember the last 
look upon the sweet, patient face, the harsh sound of 
the screwdriver, as the pompous undertaker fastened 
down the lid of the coffin, the solemn ride to Trinity 
Church, the voice of the Eeverend Mr. Haff, in his 
robes, as it chanted the beautiful words of the service : 
“ I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord. 
He that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet 
shall he live, and whosoever liveth and believeth in 
Me shall never die,” — the long ride up Algoma Street, 
with two or three carriages following the hearse to the 
new cemetery, the fresh mound of earth beside an 
open grave, the quiet, peaceful river near by, and then 
the utter loneliness of the little house after the return, 
and Miss Appleton’s attempt to comfort him. 

He would write to Celia, as he had promised her. 
There was strange news on the street, for he had 
heard people talking about it. Lee had surrendered 
to General Grant, and the Union troops were in Eich- 
mond. Miss Appleton had told him of it, hoping to 
get him to think al)out something else than his mother 
and his trouble. He had listened mechanically, but 
did not seem to be much interested. He knew the 
war was over, and the soldiers would soon be home. 
Celia would be glad, and her father would now believe 
that God had worked all things well. 

With an accommodation ” pen-holder and a rusty 
pen, on the little table by the front window, where he 
could see the leafless trees in the yard, after several 
trials and many tears, he wrote the letter : — 

“ My Darling Celia, — The great misfortune of my life 
has come. Mother was dead when I got here, and the 

F 


82 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


funeral was the day before yesterday. I tliink sometimes 
it would be better for me and better for the world if I were 
in the grave with her. The only thing that cheers me in 
my sorrow is my love for you. Dear Celia, I love you, and 
the thought that you care for me as you do is all that keeps 
me from utter desolation. I hope and pray we may be 
spared for each other, for to be with you is joy, and to think 
of you is peace and consolation. In my mind the happy 
days of the past winter since I met you will always be 
painted as a beautiful picture, and in the watches of the 
night, when I cannot sleep, I think of the past, and I see 
you and, I am comforted. Write to me, dearest girl, for I 
am very lonely. Good-bye. H, P. Juniper.” 

It was sealed and addressed, and then he arose to 
take it to the post-office. He had remained in the house 
almost constantly since his return, and the walk would 
do him good. The sun was shining brightly. Up to 
the corner and then down High Street he walked, 
hoping that he would not meet any one he knew, for 
he was in no mood to talk to any one. The soreness 
in his heart yearned for silence and seclusion. 

At Ferry Street he crossed over to Waugoo Street, 
and then to the little one-storey post-office, and at the 
window he bought a three-cent stamp and mailed his 
letter in the slot beneath the window. Starting to go 
out, he turned for a moment to Ho. 525, the little box 
with the figures on the glass in red paint. It had a 
slip with the word “vacant,” showing that the rent 
was due for the quarter beginning April ist. He paid 
the rent, and as the receipted slip was handed out to 
him, a letter in a little white envelope came with it. 
On one end was printed a piece of poetry, “ Do they 
miss me at home?” and the post-mark read “New 
London, April 2,” the day after he arrived in Oshkosh. 
A glance at the address, “ Mr. Horatio Juniper, Osh- 
kosh, Wis.,” showed that it was from Celia. He 
thought his hand and arm benumbed as he held the 
letter to read the address a second time, and to be 


IN WHICH HE RECEIVES A LETTER 83 


certain it was from her, and then he carefully placed 
it in his inside pocket. • Celia's letter was too sacred to 
be read in the post-office or on the street. 

In the sitting-room at home he threw himself on the 
lounge, hurriedly broke the seal, and read — 

“New London, April 2nd. 

“Dear ]Mr. Juniper, — When I told Pa of our engage- 
ment, he Avas much hurt. He has positively forbidden me 
to liave anything more to do with you. You know he does 
not lilce your religious vieAvs, and he says that we never can 
be liappv together. I am afraid that we are too young any- 
waA". 1 love you, and I can never love any one else but 
you, that is certain, but Ave can never be more than friends. 
Try and forget me, for I must never see you again. It will 
be better thus. Oli, that Ave had never met ! and now fare- 
Avell for e\'er. Celia. 

“P.aS. — I have pressed the arbutus, and I shall ahvays 
keep the floAvers as memento of at least one happy day.” 

Early in the previous winter Horatio had frozen 
one of his ears. The ear was immediately afterwards 
exposed to tlie cold without the slightest sensation of 
pain, and it was not until he had sat by the warm 
stove in the cabin for several minutes that he became 
aware of the injury. 

When he threw down Celia’s letter, the idea occurred 
to him that his heart was frozen. Surely the events 
of the past week had made him callous for he read the 
letter OA^er a second time, realising thoroughly that it 
meant the destruction of all his hopes and the end 
of his remnant of happiness, but he found himself 
curiously studying Celia’s penmanship and wondering 
if she did not use a stub pen, and looking it over for a 
mistake in grammar. Tlien it occurred to him again 
that he had been cast olT, that he no longer had any 
riglit to think of her as his own, and a great waA^e of 
indignation and a sense of injustice and wrong dashed 


84 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


over him, and he raised himself to his full height, draw- 
ing to his assistance the whole power of his egotism 
and pride in himself, grinding his teeth together almost 
in scorn. The idea that such a little white-faced girl, 
— he had almost said red-headed, but, with a sense of 
conscientious accuracy, he would not use the phrase 
even to himself — that this little school-girl should thus 
thoughtlessly throw aside the rich offering of a love 
like his was deeply humiliating, and it pricked him 
like a needle. He was born to be a strong man, one 
whose name should be spoken proudly wherever it was 
known. He always felt this, and never more than 
when he was suffering the most intense mental agony, 
and he would now put aside his present trouble, and 
the greater one of his mother’s death, and go out into 
the world in earnest and conquer fate. He had always 
prided himself on his iron will. Now he would win 
success and fame and future alone in the sorrow of 
loneliness, and prove to Celia that she had been mis- 
taken. He would never marry, but he would proudly 
demonstrate to her and her father that they had mis- 
judged him. But as he thought of the past winter and 
the bright hopes that filled his mind when he left her, 
the big tears rolled up from the soreness of his heart 
in defiance of his will, and for a moment lie was crushed 
again. 

He raised himself after a few minutes, and bathed 
his eyes and face in cold water. The man was be- 
ginning to assert itself over the boy. With almost 
a light heart he took down the “Mitchell’s Geo- 
graphy” that held his note-paper, and wrote his last 
letter to Celia : — 


“ Oshkosh, Aj^ril 8, 1865. 

“ Miss Celia Branford, New London, Wis. 

“Dear Celia, — I have just read your cruel letter of 
April 2. My heart was already broken with the sorrow of 
my mother’s death, and now your words have ended for me all 


IN WHICH HE RECEIVES A LETTER 8$ 


hope of happiness in this world. I accept your decision, 
and I have no thought of questioning its wisdom. You 
have weighed the dislike which your father has for me 
against my love, and I am the sufferer. Perhaps it is right ; 
at any rate, God does all things wisely, and T shall drag out 
the few remaining days of my existence it matters not how. 
I have loved you with my whole existence, and I can never 
love any one else — so what is left for me hut to die 1 ^ 1 
hope you will he happy, for I shall never see you again. 
Enclosed I return your letter, for I do not wish to retain 
anything of yours which will awaken an unkind thought of 
you. — Yours, H. P. Juniper.” 

Nearly thirty years have passed since it was written, 
and the paper is now yellow and discoloured with age, 
but the writing is as clear and the words as plainly 
formed and as easy to read as they ever were, although 
much handling has badly worn the creases of the paper 
where it was folded. 

“There,” said Horatio, as he sealed and addressed 
the envelope, “ I think she deserves it, and now we’re 
even.” 


CHAPTEK IX 
NEWS FROM AFAR 


It was astonishing to him as he walked down High 
Street again to the post-office that his mind had 
almost recovered its equilibrium. The storm created 
by Celia’s letter had distracted his attention from 
his sorrow, and now the man witliin him was aroused, 
and he felt that in his mental processes he had ad- 
vanced many stages in the past week. His feet struck 
the side-walk with a firm tread, and the fresh spring 
air as he inhaled it seemed grateful to his lungs. • 

After mailing his letter, he was surprised, as he drew 
near the wood-coloured house under the Lombardy 
poplars, to see Miss Appleton inside the gate waiting 
for him. 

Her gentle cooing voice and sweet manner, her sis- 
terly affection and tenderness, and the soft light of her 
grey eyes impressed him deeply in his loneliness. He 
had told her nothing of his affair with Celia, for he had 
resolved to keep the whole matter a secret. The spot 
was altogether too sore to expose it, even to friendly 
hands. 

Miss Appleton had brought him a letter to read. 
She thought it would interest him and get his mind off 
the subject of his sorrow. It was from her cousin, a 
young man wffio had gone to South America. He was 
a civil engineer, a graduate of Yale Scientific School, 
and he had gone to Panama and then to Peru. His 
letter was written on thin French paper and folded 
into a square envelope, which was almost covered with 

queer-looking foreign stamps and post-marks. 

86 


NEWS FROM AFAR 


87 


Horatio read the letter with a good appetite. He 
had always enjoyed reading about foreign countries. 
Books of travel, next to biography, had been his greatest 
delight. He was especially pleased to read about Peru, 
for only the year before lie had read Prescott’s won- 
derful story of “ Pizarro’s Conquest;” and then in the 
geography he used in school there was a pitiful anec- 
dote of the unfortunate Inca, who tried to earn his 
release from imprisonment by filling with gold the 
room in which he was confined, only to be cruelly 
slain by the bloodthirsty Spaniard. 

The letter from Frank Chandler to his cousin was 
written in the city of Lima. The writer had been in 
Peru a year, and was greatly pleased with the country. 
It was never hot, although in the tropics, and it was 
absolutely free from snow, rain, or wind. The winters 
were damp, but not cold, and the summers but little 
warmer than in N'ew Hampshire, although much longer. 
Lima itself was a quaint old Spanish town of the six- 
teenth century, with its ruined churches and monas- 
teries, its narrow streets, its angel us bells, and monks 
and friars without number. But the writer was better 
pleased with his business prospects than with anything 
else. Although he had been out of school less than 
two years he was earning |200 a month, and he 
had good prospects of making a fortune. He was 
employed by the Government in surveying the guano 
districts. The guano business had enriched the country. 
Callao, the principal seaport, was the liveliest place on 
the coast. Hundreds of vessels arrived there daily 
from all parts of the ci^’ilised world. Lima was full of 
wealthy people, who spent money like water. Ameri- 
cans were in demand for business enterprises, as the 
natives were indolent and disliked to exert themselves. 

Horatio was so much interested in the letter that he 
forgot for the moment the feeling of sorrow that hung 
over him. 

After the solitary supper, he was reading the letter 


88 


THE MAN J'^ROM OSH KUSH 


for the third or fourth lime, when a rap was heard on 
the door, and Lars Johnson came in. 

“ How are you, old boy ? ” was the enthusiastic greet- 
ing. “ How do you carry yourself ? Just came in this 
afternoon, and heard of your mother's death. Awful 
sorry for you, Hod. I can just imagine how cut up I’d 
be if I should lose my only mother. She was a good, 
kind woman, and now she’s in heaven. If ever a woman 
was sure of reaching there, it was your mother, Hod.” 

Horatio’s eyes moistened, and he turned away his face. 

“ How are the folks up the river ? How’s Teachie ? 
An’ how’s Celia ? An’ how’s the Smileys ? Has the 
old man shot any more deer ? ” 

What a blessing it was he bunched his questions 
together. Horatio replied with his head down that he 
believed everybody was well. 

Eemember the day I left you, Hod ? ” he continued. 
“ Well, I had more fun tlian you can shake a stick at. 
Everything was all right till I got to Young’s, and then 
as I was goin’ up the hill what did my old Tom do, 
the right one, but break a whipple-tree. It was clean 
busted, ’ll there I was, and night coinin’ on. At Young’s 
they told me there was goin’ to be a dance at Khodes’s 
Hall that night, so I took mighty good caie not to get 
a new whipple-tree too previous. Well, sir, I danced 
all night, and didn’t leave the hall till daylight. Got 
my breakfast, and off I started just after sun-up. Some 
of the prettiest girls I ever saw. Hod. Those Fremont 
girls just take the rag, I tell you. Never saw such 
dancers in all my born days. Got home all right the 
next day, ’n the old man never said a word, when I 
told him about the accident.” 

It was a relief to Horatio to listen to the good- 
natured monologue of the young fellow. When Lars 
had paused to take breath, Horatio introduced the letter 
Miss Appleton had loaned him. After explaining the 
relationship of the writer, Horatio read it through from 
beginning to end. 


NEWS FRO:\r AFAR S9 

‘^Xow. llod Juniper,” exclaimed Lars, “ I’ve got an 
idea. L’es go down there.” 

‘‘ Yoivre crazy, Lars.” 

“ No, Lm not crazy. I mean every word of it. L’es 
go to Teru.” 

“What for?” 

“ Why, to seek our fortune, to be sure. Now, Hod, I 
want to tell ye. The war’s over, and in a few weeks the 
woods ’ll be full o’ men lookin’ for a job. A million 0’ 
men will be out 0’ work in the United States. What 
does that mean ? Why, it means wages ’ll go down. 
Soon’s the soldiers git home, you won’t be able to git a 
job at fifty cents a day. You an’ I been gettin’ a man’s 
wages because men have been skerce, but times are 
goin’ to change, and we’ll feel cheap to go round with 
our finger in our mouth an’ nothin’ to do. I tell you I 
vote for Peru every time.” 

“ But what can we do if we go there ? ” Horatio was 
beginning to be somewhat interested. 

“ Do ? Why, anything. We’re just running over 
with days’ works, ain’t we ? We can work in the 
woods, or in a shingle-mill, or run the river, or do 
chopping, or drive horses. An’ then I can stick type, or 
teach dancin’ school, or edit a newspaper. Oh, we’ll get 
along ; you can bet your boots on that.” 

“ I don’t believe they do much lumbering there,” said 
Horatio, “ for that country is in the tropics.” 

“ Somebody’s got to chop the guano, haven’t they ? 
an’ it’s got to be handled to the river, hasn’t it ? An’ 
men are needed to run it down to market, ain’t they ? 
What are you givin’ us ? ” 

“ Why, Larry,” said Horatio, smiling in spite of him- 
self, “guano isn’t timber. It’s a mineral.” 

“ Don’t you s’pose I know ? Where do we get our 
rosewood and mahogany and guano from ? Isn’t it 
Peru or Honduras, or some of those places ? Of course 
it is. Guess I’ve studied geography. I believe the 
guano woods is just where we want to go.” 


90 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“The distance is so great,” said Horatio, musing, 
“and it will cost so much to get there.” 

“ We can go to St. Louis and take a boat, can’t we ? ” 

“ Yes, but a boat couldn’t take us there that way.” 

I know ; but from New Orleans we could go to 
Texas, and through JMexico, and so on down. Perhaps 
we could walk some of the way. I always was good on 
the hoof.” 

“Well, Larry, let’s think it over, anyway. It’s a 
pretty important move to make.” 

Lars went out whistling “ The girl I left behind me.” 


CHAPTEK X 

A LATTER-DAY STATESMAN 

The original settlement known as Knagg’s Ferry was 
afterwards called by the more euphonious name of 
Algoma. Here the trail of the early French Jesuits 
and voyageurs crossed the Fox Eiver on the way by 
land from Fort Howard on Green Bay to Fort Winne- 
bago on the Wisconsin Eiver. A rude bridge of floating 
timbers, with a movable draw to admit the passage of 
rafts and steamboats, had taken the place of the original 
scow, which carried across the river such travellers and 
their steeds as from time to time wandered over the 
route. The Eagle Hotel was the best hostelry to be 
found on the way, and the little village growing up 
around it on the west side of the river soon began to 
put on airs and make faces at its neighbour two or 
three miles farther down the river. When the other 
settlement at the mouth of the river, where the Fox 
unites with Lake Winnebago, had become large enough 
to christen, a public meeting of its citizens was con- 
vened and several names were proposed. There was a 
faction which strongly urged the name of Athens for 
the new city, while another favoured the name of 
Auburn, immortalised by Goldsmith ; and others sug- 
gested the beautiful name of Algoma, urging with rare 
forethought that possibly some time in the future the 
two settlements might coalesce, and form one good 
village. But the most powerful element, and the one 
that had the best orators, proposed to call the embryo 
city after a celebiated Indian chief — Oshkosh. The 
91 


92 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Algoma favourites did not like Athens, and the Athens 
people did not like Auburn, and the Auburn people 
did not like Algoma, and so, after fifteen or twenty 
elocpient speeches, including two or three modest little 
addresses by the ladies, the name of Oshkosh was finally 
and happily selected. One enthusiastic advocate of 
the claims of Athens withdrew in disgust, saying as he 
went out of the door, “ Better call it Allsquash and be 
done with it!” The village seemed to thrive apace, 
and it was soon far ahead of its older rival, Algoma, 
although the latter held its own for years, until it was 
finally absorbed in the growing city of Oshkosh, and 
became its fifth ward. 

The principal industry in Algoma clustered around 
the sawmill of P. Sangster & Son. A tall brick smoke- 
stack attached to a wooden building, unpainted and 
unadorned, near a small creek running into the river, 
marked the site of the mill, which was connected with 
the creek by sloping ways, on which the logs were 
hauled up to the saw. In front of the mill, next to the 
road, was a small one-storey wooden building used as 
an office. In the river, moored to the dock below the 
bridge, and immediately opposite the mill, lay a small 
schooner, in which half-a-dozen men were loading lum- 
ber to be carried to Fond du Lac as soon as the ice was 
entirely out of the lake. 

Captain Sangster, the principal owner of the mill, 
was a short stocky man about fifty-five years old. 
The story of his career was good enough for a novel. 
He was born in that part of Vermont where farmers 
are said to sharpen the noses of their sheep to enable 
the poor animals to pick the grass from between the 
rocks. His parents were descended from Eevolutionary 
stock, and when young Philemon was four or five years 
old they crossed Lake Champlain and settled on a farm 
near Plattsburgh. At the age of nineteen, the young 
man found himself strong, hearty, and ambitious, but 
without any education whatever, except that he could 


A LATTER-DAY STATESMAN 


93 


read and could write a very poor hand, for he had 
never attended school. In the long winter evenings, 
])y the light of the big fireplace, he had managed to 
acquire a slight knowledge of reading, and in some 
manner unknown he had learned how to write and 
cipher a little. Inspired with a desire to better his 
condition, he did what many Xew England boys have 
done — he bought his time. For $300 he purchased 
the remainder of his minority from his father, and 
struck out for the West. At the age of thirty-five 
he was at work as a tail-sawyer in a little mill on the 
Wolf Kiver at $10 a month, and in ten years he 
had bought the Algoma mill, built a large residence, 
and was easily worth half a million, all honestly mad (3 
and without aid from any one. 

His memory was remarkable. He rarely made 
notes of any business transaction, but he could tell 
the price of lumber, or shingles, or saw-logs on any 
given date in any year since he first went into the 
business ; and when it came to the details of buying 
and selling, he was a complete encyclopedia of the 
subject. He was a natural money-maker. He always 
bought at the right time for a rise, and always sold 
when the market was the highest, and he sometimes 
took risks that appalled his competitors, but never 
was known to lose. While his sagacity and shrewdness 
placed him at the head of his line of business, his in- 
tegrity never was questioned, and to those who knew 
him his word was as good as a warranty deed. 

He had been a member of the State Legislature and 
mayor of the city of Oshkosh, and, at the election 
when Old Abe had beaten Little Mac for President, 
Captain Sangster had been chosen a member of Con- 
gress. In every public position, his pellucid honesty 
and frankness, his homely common-sense and shrewd 
practical mentality, had made him a pillar of strength, 
and his neighbours were very confident that when he 
went down to Washington he would be able to give 


94 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


points to the other Congressmen and then score ahead 
of them, providing he had a good stick of soft pine to 
whittle. 

Early one Saturday morning in April, Mr. Elwood, 
the book-keeper in the office of P. Sangster & Son, 
stood at his desk making out an invoice of lumber to 
be shipped by schooner to the Fond du Lac branch, 
copying the figures from a couple of shingles where 
they had been written in pencil. He was a ruddy, 
full-faced man, with the stately dignity of an Irish 
Member of Parliament, and a disposition and flow of 
words that sometimes belied his appearance. 

Two men made their appearance at the door of the 
little office at the same instant. One had walked up 
from the lower part of the city across the bridge, and 
he entered the office with a hesitating air, as if he 
were not quite sure that he was entitled to admission. 
He was a young man with dark eyes and a black 
moustache, and his black hair showed that it had just 
been submitted to the manipulation of the barber. 
He wore an ill-fitting ready-made suit of brown, with 
a Ho. 15 paper collar of the turn-down variety, show- 
ing between the points a pudgy black necktie. On 
his head was a black Kossuth hat, with a broad piece 
of crape encircling it to the top. His whole appear- 
ance indicated at once that he was just down from tlie 
pinery after a winter’s engagement in the woods, and 
he was undoubtedly an applicant for work in the mill. 

He had just stepped inside the door when the other 
man rushed by him, having alighted from his buggy, 
and tied his venerable brown horse to the post in front. 
The second was a young man three or four years older, 
who followed the double occupation of lumberman and 
farmer, residing on the outskirts of the village on a 
small farm. He had been down to the post-office in 
Oshkosh to post a letter for the early train, and he 
hurried into the office in a state of nervous excitement 
as if he were the bearer of strange tidings. 


A LATTER-DAY STATESMAN 95 

" William,” said he to the book-keeper, “ have you 
heard the news ? ” 

“ Xo,” replied Mr. Elwood, not raising his eyes from 
the sliingle. “ What is it, Henry ? ” 

“ Why, Lincoln is killed. Shot last night in a 
theatre; and Seward is killed, and Andy Johnson, the 
Vice-President, is assassinated; and they’re layin’ for 
the whole Cabinet.” 

“ Henry, you’re a whistlin’,” coolly answered Mr. 
Elwood, deliberately filling out his whole column of 
figures. 

“ It’s true, ’pon my word and honour,” said Henry, 
all out of breath. " They’ve got the news down at the 
telegraph-office. The Government is all goin’- to pieces. 
A man named Booth shot him, and he jumped on the 
stage and ran away ; and gold is going up to 300, and 
there’s awful excitement in ISTew York. And they are 
goin’ to toll all the bells in town, and the flag on the 
Phoenix engine-house is at half-mast.” 

By this time Mr. Elwood began to get interested. 
He had thrown aside his pen, and hurriedly pulled off 
the gingham half-sleeves that he wore to protect the 
cuffs of his white shirt. 

“ The rebels must ’a done it,” he said slowly. '' Who’s 
Booth, any way ? ” 

“ He’s an actor down East. Plays Hamlet and In- 
gomar the barbarian. Great Shake.'peare feller.” 

Hope they’ll burn him alive when they catch him,” 
said Mr. Elwood. 

I wouldn’t give much for his hide. Where’s Old 
Sawlogs ? ” 

“ Gone over to Fond du Lac. Back to-night.” 

“ Well, I must go and tell father ; ” and Henry rushed 
out, unfastened the brown horse, and drove off. 

The young man from the pinery had diffidently 
remained standing just inside the door during the 
preceding colloquy, and now he advanced into the 
august presence of the book-keeper. 


96 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“ Is Captain Saiigster around ? ” he asked. 

“ No,” replied Mr. Elwood, who had resumed his 
gingham half-sleeves and his pen, and was studiously 
scrutinising one of the shingles. 

“ When will he be in ? ” 

“ Well, we don’t want any men. We’ve got all we 
want.” 

Mr. Elwood was distantly related to Captain Sangster, 
and his relationsliip gave him an air of authority. 

‘‘ But I would like to see Captain Sangster himself.” 

“ You can’t do it, ’cause he ain’t here.” 

“ Will you tell me when he will be here ? ” 

“ I tell you we don’t want to hire any more men,” 
said Mr. Elwood, hastily throwing down his pen ; “ and 
if you give me any more of your sass. I’ll throw you 
out o’ the door.” 

“ I don’t want to hire out. I want to see Captain 
Sangster on business.” 

By this time Mr. Elwood had looked over the young 
man from head to foot, and a good-natured smile 
played on his open countenance. 

“Well, young fellah,” said he, “you come around 
here iMonday morning and you’ll catch him. He’s 
gone away now, and he won’t be back till eight 
o’clock to-night.” 

Horatio withdrew, more than half convinced that 
Old Sawlogs and Captain Sangster were one and the 
same person, and yet he could not comprehend the 
audacity of the men who could thus ridicule a live 
member of Congress. 

As he went out of the office, a flag was slowly raised 
to half-mast on the Algoma engine-house, and as he 
walked down Algoma Street a distant church -bell 
began a melancholy tolling, and soon two or three 
others joined in the solemn service, and the people 
he met walked with a frightened and excited air. 

On Monday morning Horatio again made his appear- 
ance at the office. 


A LATTER-DAY STATESMAN 


97 


Captain Sangster was seated at his desk, with a pile 
of letters and papers before him, and two or three 
shingles closely covered by figures written with a 
pencil. The Captain had his grey hair closely cropped, 
and wore a dark-blue sack-coat. He had a broad 
intellectual forehead, reaching nearly to the back of 
his head, with pleasant grey eyes, and his voice and 
manner were sympathetic and kindly, while the hard- 
headed man of business was apparent in every word 
and action. 

‘‘ Captain,” said Mr. El wood as Horatio came in, 
“ this man wants to see you.” 

“ Have a seat,” said Captain Sangster, turning around 
and examining his visitor under his shaggy eyebrows. 
“ What can I do for you ? ” 

Horatio took the proffered chair, and, with a voice 
which trembled in spite of his efforts to be firm, he 
began — 

“ Mr. Sangster, I want to see you about some land. 
My name’s Juniper ; I live down on Pearl Street.” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Captain Sangster. “ Your father 
was killed in the woods for Welt & Shelley. I know 
now ; and youVe been on the Embarrass for the Gang 
Mill folks.” 

Horatio felt relieved at the ready sympathy shown 
]jy Captain Sangster. 

“My father had some land on the Upper Wolf, and 
some on the Little Wolf, and I thought perhaps you’d 
like to buy it.” 

“ Does your mother want to sell it ? ” 

“ My mother is dead.” 

Oh, yes— excuse me, I forgot. How much land is 
there ? ” . 

Five quarter sections, and ten or twelve scattering 
forties.” 

“ Have the taxes been paid ? ” 

“ Not since my father died.” 

Captain Sangster whistled. He pulled out a pocket- 

G 


98 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


knife with a large blade, and picking up a stick about 
a foot long, he leaned back in his chair and slowly 
began to whittle the stick. Finally, he turned to 
Horatio and resumed his cross-examination. 

“ Have you got the description of the land ? ” 

Horatio drew from his inside pocket the little cloth- 
covered Diary for 1863, and from its interior he pro- 
duced a slip of paper and began — 

“ There’s some in town 24, range 6.” 

“ That’s good.” 

“And then there’s a quarter section in town 25, 
range 6.” 

“ What section ? ” 

“ North-east of 21.” 

“ Mostly hemlock ; very poor.” 

“ Town 26, range 7-, two forties.” 

“ Good pine.” 

“Five forties in sections i and 2 of town 27, 
range 6.” 

“ Small scrubby trees,” said the Captain to himself, 
slowly whistling. 

“ Half section in 36, town 28, range 7.” 

“ Good timber, but mighty long haul.” 

And so it continued to the end of the list, the Cap- 
tain commenting from actual knowledge on every sub- 
division of every piece of land mentioned, and the pine 
stick began to assume an emaciated appearance, as the 
long delicate strips were shaved from it by the Captain’s 
knife. 

“ What do you consider the land worth, after the tax 
certificates are taken up ? ” 

Horatio was at a loss to know. If the Captain had 
offered him $200 for the whole list, he would have 
accepted it gladly. He answered — 

“ You know the value of it, and I don’t.” 

“ What makes you want to sell it ? ” 

“ I’m going away, and I need a little money.” 

“ How much do you need ? ” 


A LATTER-DAY STATESMAN 


99 


“ Two or three hundred dollars at least.” 

“ Now, young man, 1 11 tell you,” and he slowly re- 
sumed his whittling,with his eye fixed on the pine stick, 
as if he were talking to it, ‘‘ some o’ that land’s good, 
and some isn’t worth the taxes. If lumber goes up, it 
may be worth having. If times come on’s hard’s they 
have been, an’ the price of lumber gets way down, 
you’ll have to hold it a long time to get much out of 
it. Still, I should say to hold it. I believe lumber’s 
going up.” 

“ But I don’t want to hold it ; I want to get what I 
can out of it.” 

“ Does any one else have any title to it but you ? ” 

“ Only my sister out in Minnesota.” 

A fresh stick enabled the Captain to continue his 
study, which he did for a few minutes in silence. 

“ I’ll take the land in this way. You get a quit- 
claim from your sister, and then make over the land 
to me. I’ll advance you $300, and take up the tax 
certificates and see that the taxes are paid right 
along. Then I’ll hold the land till its worth some- 
thing, and when I sell it. I’ll take a third of the price 
for my share. You an’ I may both be dead before it’s 
worth selling, but I’ll take the chances on it. What 
do you say to that ? ” 

Horatio was overjoyed at the prospect of getting 
1 300 for the land, and he gave little thought to the 
remainder of the proposition. He answered — 

“ That seems reasonable.” 

“ You’re tw^enty-one, an t you ? ” 

“No, I am only about twenty.” 

Another whittling scene, and silence for a few 
minutes. 

“You’ll have to get a guardian ad litem and go 
before tlie county judge down at the court-house. 
Some friend of yours who owns a house and lot will 
do. I’ll have my clerk make out the papers.” 

“ Will Mr. Appleton do ? ” asked Horatio. 


100 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Good as the wheat. You come in Thursday and 
I’ll have the papers ready.” 

Horatio arose to go. 

“ Now, see here,” said the Captain. “ You under- 
stand my offer. Before you fully decide to turn over 
the land to me, you’d better go and see Tom Lilley and 
the Brinkerhoffs, an’ Clapp & Judkins. Tell ’em all 
about it, and maybe they’ll make you a better offer.” 

Horatio thanked him and retired greatly relieved, 
and the Captain picked up a fresh shingle and began 
to make some figures with a short black pencil in his 
fat stubby fingers. 


CHAPTER XI 
IN AMBUSH 

It was early morning in ]\fay. The log-cabin near 
the creek was still quiet, but a thin line of blue smoke 
ascended from the stove-pipe and floated dreamily in 
a horizontal mass, mingling with the tops of the trees, 
showing that some of its inmates were awake. Pre- 
sently Mr. Branford came out and proceeded with the 
work of skinning an animal he had captured that 
morning. 

All immense otter had made its home in the waters 
of the Embarrass. The old man had noticed its tracks, 
and once or twice had caught sight of it, but never 
when he had liis rifle. For weeks he had been in 
search of the animal, having set two or three of his 
traps in the shallow water of the river near the bend 
where it had been seen. He had risen in the grey of 
the morning, and as he approached the bank with the 
rifle over his shoulder, his quick ear was delighted 
with a loud splashing, and bending down among the 
trees, he saw the chain drawn tight from the end 
which was securely fastened to a big root, and the 
trap itself sunk in tlie dark water. Cutting a stout 
pole from a neighbouring thicket with his knife and 
cocking his rifle, he dexterously followed the chain 
into the water with the end of the pole, and soon had 
it so wound around the links that he was enabled to 
raise it slowly and carefully to the surface. A magni- 
ficent specimen it was, with both hind-legs fastened 
in the cruel jaws of the trap, and fighting for its life 


02 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


with the desperation wliich the fear of death inspires 
in all the animal creation. Its glossy dark-brown fur 
stood out to its full length in the water, making it 
appear more bulky than it really was, and its short 
fore-paws clasped the chain as if to rend it in two, 
while the little round black eyes flashed fire as the 
jaws snapped together in agony. Holding it with his 
left hand so that the head was partially out of water, 
the old man managed to draw up his rifle slowly, after 
three or four efforts, until he secured the right posi- 
tion, when he fired. The bullet struck the otter just 
back of the eye, and it struggled for an instant, and 
then its head and fore-paws dropped quietly beneath 
the current. 

As he stepped into the main road with the otter 
lianging down over his shoulder, he was suiqn'ised to see 
the figure of a man under the trees, fifteen or twenty 
rods ahead, and walking slowly in the direction of 
his house. The man had eHdently come from New 
London, and his new clothes and his general appear- 
ance indicated that he was a stranger. The old man 
was about to hasten liis steps and overtake the un- 
known, when something in the walk and manner of 
the stranger appeared familiar, and the old hunter 
stepped behind a tree and began to study the moving 
figure deliberately. 

It’s young Juniper, as I live ! ” said he to himself. 
‘‘ Now, what do ye suppose he wants around here this 
time o’ day.” 

With mingled feelings of suspicion and kindly 
interest, Mr. Branford followed the stranger at such 
a distance that he did not h^se sight of his prey and 
yet remained out of sight himself. The sun had not 
yet fairly risen, but it was light enough to distinctly 
observe the visitor as he quietly walked up the road 
almost to the clearing, and then cautiously crossed the 
creek, and slowly moved among tlie trees until he 
found himself almost opposite the little cabin. Here 


IN AMBUSH 


103 


on a slight elevation a clump of hazel bushes stood 
out from the heavy timber, and before the old man 
could realise what was passing, the stranger had 
secreted himself, for nothing more could be seen of 
him. 

After watching several minutes, Mr. Branford w'as 
convinced that the man he had followed was concealed 
in the hazel bushes for the purpose of watching the 
cabin across the creek. He abandoned further search, 
and slowly made a circuit of the little clearing, in 
order to remain out of sight until he reached the 
opposite side, and then he boldly pushed forward, 
swinging the otter by the hind-legs, and entered the 
cabin, where he soon had a rousing fire built in the 
stove. 

It was a beautiful morning ! Oh, ye effeminate 
dwellers in the South, ye little know the delights of 
nature in the Northern spring-time ! After the rigours 
of the severe winter, the soft air of spring comes with 
a delicious fervour, an intoxicating sweetness, that more 
than compensates for wintry blasts. The soft maples 
had just put out their exquisitely-shaped leaves that 
now fluttered with an infinite chorus in the morning 
breeze, the tender buds of the birch were eniiching 
the pure white bark with their contrasting green, and 
the soft thick verdure of the bass-wood was slowly 
forming a rampart of leaves impenetrable to the eye, 
while the dark rich green of the lofty pine seemed 
more solid and regal in comparison with the ephemeral 
brilliance of its neighbours. Nearer the creek, the 
pussy-willows had begun to drop their green, cater- 
pillar-like flowers, and their long green leaves hung in 
modest humility. On the higher ground, a bunch of 
wild plum-trees were almost hidden in a mass of pink 
and white blossoms, which gave the air an odour 
sweeter than almonds, and attracted the first buzzing 
bees of the season. As the sun rose, the scene was 
flooded with a golden light, and the chill of early 


104 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


morning gradually gave place to a gentle warmth w('ll 
suited to the tender buds and blosf-mns. The wateis 
of the creek murmured a gentle monody, and in tlu* 
adjacent timber the slow tinkle of a distant cow-b( ll 
gave out a restful and dreamy accoimpaniment. while 
the blithe note of the meadow-laik. tlu' clieeiful chirp 
of the robin, and the saucy screaming of the blue-jay, 
testified that to animated nature simi)le existence was 
joy and happiness. 

The log-house of the Branfords, seen from a litth' 
distance, was more attractive than in the winter. Jn 
the rear a large garden among the stumps had already 
been spaded and sown with vegetable and flower seeds, 
which dotted the dark earth with hiei’oglyphics of 
nature’s own, and the embankment of earth, which 
during the cold weather had surrounded the cabin to 
the height of two or three feet, was now levelled to 
the ground, and converted into a bed for scarlet- 
runners and morning-glories, whose stems were just 
poking their heads through the soft damp earth. 
Three or four large stumps in front of the house held 
boxes of earth for the nasturtiums, and in a low bed 
covered with a glass frame was a bed for pansies and 
violets. 

Mr. Branford had resolved to keep secret the dis- 
covery he had made as to young Juniper. At heart, 
he deeply regretted his interference with his daughter’s 
feelings towards the young man, for he could see that 
Celia was not herself since her return from New 
London, although she had inade no complaint, and 
evidently was trying to be the same loving and 
affectionate daughter she had always been. Perhaps 
if was the spring-sickness that made her dumpish, 
but anyway her brothers would be home now soon, and 
then everything would wear a new face, for the war 
\vas ended, and times would soon be good again. He 
could not imagine why the young man should come u]) 
from Oshkosh and hide himself near the place, but he 


IN AMBUSH 105 

would keep watch quietly and see what would come 
of it. 

In an hour or so, after the early breakfast, Celia 
appeared and busied herself for a while among her 
bowers. How demure she looked in her long Shaker 
bonnet with the blue cape and the quaint heavy braid 
of rich auburn hair reaching down below the waist of 
the checked print dress ! How she stood for an 
instant and looked directly at the clump of hazel 
bushes with the bine ribbon at her throat fluttering 
in the morning breeze, and then towards the pink 
blossoms of the plum-trees, and then away towards 
the distant woods, as if taking in the whole scene and 
its air of serene quiet ! And then with a small 
trowel she worked among the growing plants, and one 
might almost wish to be a scarlet-runner or a holly- 
liock or a bachelor’s button to be the object of such 
sweet solicitation from such a charming creature. 
Was she changed? Well it did seem as if her eyes 
were more downcast, and she moved with less spirit, 
and her old appearance of warm, sunny, bubbling 
good-nature was lacking, but then it may be only 
one’s imagination. Her movements were just as 
graceful, the soft outline of her figure was just as trim, 
and the little hand and well-shaped arm as attractive 
as ever. 

It was a long day, but somehow it passed quickly. 
Celia crossed the creek in the afternoon, having added 
to her toilet a white apron with two little pockets, and 
slowly walked up past the clump of hazel bushes, and, 
following the path used by the cattle, disappeared in 
i lie woods ; but she soon returned with a bunch of 
white anemones and a few wild violets, and as she 
passed homeward, her head was bent towards the 
ground and she was singing something to herself in 
a sad sort of a voice, so low that one could not dis- 
tinguish the words. 

The dark shadows of the tall trees grew longer, and 


I 06 THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 

three or four mild-eyed cows slowly munching the soft 
tender grass passed down the road, and there was an 
odour in the air as of a fire newly started in the sto^'e, 
and a tall column of blue smoke rose slowly from the 
log-house and floated again in the air among the tops 
of the trees, and as the sun sank in the west, a damp 
chill pervaded the air, and the water in the noisy little 
creek gave off rings of grey vapour, and, as the last 
cow-bell tinkled in the distance, a light appeared in 
the window of the Branford cabin, and it was night. 

A little after seven a young man in a brown ready- 
made suit, with a soft black hat ribboned to the top 
with black crape, walked into the bar-room of the 
Angier House at New London and ordered supper. 
It required several minutes to brush the dead leaves 
from the back of his coat, and early the next morn- 
ing he hitched his horse to the open buggy in which 
he had come two days before, and drove off in the 
direction of Oshkosh. 


CHAPTEE XII 
RUS IN URBE 

The night-clerk behind the little desk at French’s 
Hotel yawned and looked at his watch, which showed 
twenty minutes to seven, almost time for the day-clerk 
to relieve him. Outside, in the square, the steady 
movement had commenced of heavy waggons, loaded 
with all manner of merchandise, newspaper carts, street- 
cars, express waggons, carriages, and the motley array 
of vehicles that makes up the many-coloured panorama 
always seen on the streets of a great city. On the side- 
walks were pedestrians hurrying with eager eyes — 
men, women, and boys — nearly all seeking tludr place 
of employment, to begin the labour of the day, with 
the usual accompaniment of hucksters. Italians selling 
fruits or pea-nuts, women and boys with newspapers, 
and a man with suspenders, another selling shoe-strings, 
and a third with lead-pencils, while the air was filled 
with a constant explosion of shrill-piping boys, crying. 
Tribune ! Morning Sun ! ’ere’s your 'Erald ! all about 
the great review.” 

“ Got any rooms ?” 

“ One or two,” and the night-clerk looked up. It 
was a tail young fellow, with a sandy moustache, car- 
rying in his hand a black glazed travelling-bag, and 
wearing a straw hat with a long black ribbon floating 
behind, a red neck-tie, and a suit of pepper-and-salt 
with a sack-coat. 

How much are they ? ” the young fellow asked 
good-naturedly. 

“ From a dollar a day up.” 


io8 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“ Pay in advance ? ” 

“ Certainly.” 

“ See that fellali outside with the trunks ? He’s my 
pardner. Now, if we both take the same room, I sup- 
pose it'll be fifty cents a-piece.” 

" Dollar a day for each person.” 

“ Meals thrown in ? ” 

“ You can get your meals at the restaurant, but they 
are extra.” 

“ Whew ! No wonder you fellahs wear diamond 
pins. All right, my boy ! Here’s }'our spondulix,” 
and the young man put down a two-dollar greenback, 
and wrote his name in the grimy register that the 
clerk pushed toward him. 

Outside, next to Ihe curb-stone, an express waggon 
had halted, apparently until the treaty could be duly 
negotiated within. It contained two trunks, a small 
one covered with ancient horse-hide and spiked with 
brass-headed nails, and the other, larger and newly 
painted. On the seat was a weather-beaten Irishman 
smoking a black pipe and holding the reins, and by 
his side a young man witli dark eyes and a black 
moustache, clad in a brown ready-made suit, with a 
wide ribbon of crape on his soft black hat. 

It was the work of an instant to remove the trunks 
to the office and discharge the express-man. 

While Lars was wondering who would watch the 
other trunk when he and Horatio were carrying the 
first to the room, the clerk called out — 

Front ! Show this gentleman to 251. 

Lars refused to leave the trunks until he had been 
solemnly assured that they would be sent to the room 
and the hotel would be responsible if they were stolen. 

After a modest breakfast, the first business in hand 
was a visit to the steamship company. From an adver- 
tisement they had learned that the office was at the foot 
of Canal Street, and after questioning seven or eight 
policemen, the two young men reached Canal Street 


RIJS IN URBE 


109 


through a bahel of vehicles and pedestrians, and then 
walked slowly down, viewing with open eyes the many 
curious sights on the way. The view of the river with 
its long line of docks, the immense steamships, the 
numerous boats of all sizes passing up and down, and 
particularly the volumiuous barn-like structure of the 
IVicific Mail warehouse, were all full of novel interest. 
At the office the business was soon completed. The 
next steamer would leave for Panama at noon on the 
1 0th, so they still had thiee days to spend in New 
York. A berth was selected, and all arrangements 
made as to the removal of the baggage and the pay- 
ment for the tickets on the morning of tlie departure. 

In the evening the young men decided to visit the 
office of the Trihine. To Horatio, it was like going 
to the Holy Land or Bunker Hill Monument, for the 
traditions of his childhood and the earliest recollections 
of his father were inseparably connected with Horace 
Greeley and the Tribune, and he had grown to revere 
the name of the editor and his journal as in some 
mysterious way associated with the cause of the Union 
and the rece t success of the Union armies. Lars 
Johnson, on the other hand, was anxious to compare 
the great journal of the East with the lesser lights 
which ruled the heavens in the West, contident in the 
belief that the difference between them was a difference 
merely in degree and not in species. 

Lars went ahead and Horatio followed, as they 
climbed the dingy stairways, dimly lighted here and 
there with a single gas-jet, and on the fifth or sixth 
floor Lars opened a door, and they both walked in 
without ceremony. Horatio was abashed as he saw in 
the farther corner of the room an old man seated at a 
desk covered with newspapers and reading a long sheet 
of printers proof, his eyes bent down almost to the 
paper, and so intent upon his work that he evidently 
had not heard the steps of his visitors. A gas-burner 
with a heavy paper shade was close to the big white 
face of the old man, whose bald head and long grey 


I 10 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


whiskers encircling his smooth chin like a bib, seemed 
transfigured, reminding Horatio of the pictures of the 
saints, under the halo from the brilliant light, the only 
one in tlie room, and Horatio was awe-struck for the 
moment, as he recognised the features which he had 
seen in the illustrated papers as those of the great 
editor of the Tribune. 

But Lars did not seem in the least overcome. Taking 
a printer’s rule from Ids waistcoat pocket, he walked 
leisurely tc the desk and began: — 

“Good evening, ^Ir. Greeley! I’m connected with 
the Osldvosli Re.n(’ii\ and this is my friend, Mr. Juniper. 
He’s from Oshkosli too. We’ve come to see the Tribune, 
the only good paper in America, except the Review.'* 

At the first sound of his voice, Mr. Greeley looked 
up angrily, but as he peered at his unexpected visitors 
over the tops of liis s[)ectacles, an expression of startled 
curiosity spread over his child-like face, and gradually 
softened until the word Oshkosh was repeated, when a 
faint smile rippled in the corners of his mouth ; and 
when Lars had finished, he took off his glasses, turned 
in his chair, and in a s(|ueaking, good-natured voice 
said, “Glad to see you gentlemen. You’re a long dis- 
tance from home. Oshkosh ! Oshkosh ! Do you know 
a man there named Stilson ?” 

“ Eli Stilson ? Know him like a book,” said Lars. 
“Keeps more sheep than any man in Wisconsin.” 

Is it prairie or timber land out tliere ? ” 

“ Openin’s,” said Lars, and thinking of the Wolf Eiver 
country, “ and pine and liemlock and mixed timber.” 

“What does Air. Stilson think about the silo ? I am 
greatly interested in the success of the silo for our 
farmers, and Air. Stilson is a model agriculturist, and I 
would like to know his opinion.” 

“ Kever heard him speak about it,” said I^ars, scratch- 
ing his head, and recovering himself, “ only that he liked 
the silo belter than the southdown, because it made 
better wool ! ” 


RUS IN URBR 


I I I 

An expression partly humorous and partly of vexa- 
tion came over Mr. Greeley’s face, and he touched a 
bell on the* desk. 

“ Tom,” said he to a man who came to the door wear- 
ing a soiled apron at his waist and a square paper cap 
on his head,“ this is the editor of the Oshkosh Advocate. 
I wish you would send a man with him and show him 
the office.” 

Mr. Greeley resumed his proof-reading, and the young 
men passed into the large composing-room, where thirty 
or forty men stood at tlie cases, quietly picking away 
at the type, the sharp click of tlie metal marking time 
alniost with a concerted movement.. 

Lars carried his printer’s rule in his liands. turning it 
ostentatiously with his fingers. All that he saw inter- 
ested him, and in his comments to Horatio, everything 
was compared with the corresponding feature in the 
office of the Oshkosh Bevieiv. The press-room, with its 
gigantic eight-cylinder presses and its pile of unprinted 
sheets, mountain high, was visited last ; and as the two 
young men emerged on the street and walked over to 
French’s, Lars admitted to Horatio that if he were not 
going to Peru to seek his fortune, what he would like 
better than anything else in the world would be to get 
a “ sit ” in a good printing-office. 

Saturday morning came, the loth, and Horatio 
awakened shortly after daylight to find that Lars had 
gone out. This was the day when he was to sail for 
South America, and he sprang from the bed to com- 
plete the arrangements for his departure. When he 
turned to commence packing his trunk, he was amazed 
to find that the small hair-covered trunk that Lars had 
brought was missing. With a sinking at his heart, his 
hand grasped a sheet of paper from the table where it 
lay folded and addressed to him, and opening it, he 
read — 

“Dear, Good-Hearted Old Hod, — 1 know 1 am a 
fool, and God knows I am a fool, but 1 have not sand 


I 12 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


enough to go to Peru. I am going back to the West, but 
not to Wisconsin. It’s no use to try to find me, for no one 
shall know where I am until you come back. You will find 
an envelope under your trunk on the lloor ; it contains all 
tlie money I have, except enough to pay my fare to Chicago, 
and five dollars over. Take it and use it, for it is only a 
small return for my outrageous treatment of you. I am 
ashamed to look you in the face, and that is why I ran off 
like a thief in the night. I know you are bound to go to 
South America, and I know you will succeed, for you have 
grit enough for six men ; but as the time draws near when 
we must tie loose from this country and go down upon the 
sea in ships, and sail away into the Unknown, as it were, I 
sing small, and there is nothing left for me but to skedaddle. 
God bless you, and forgive me for my heartless desertion. — 
Yours, &c., L. IT. D. Johnson.” 

For two hours Horatio held the paper in his hand 
and looked steadily out of the window. His first im- 
pulse was to abandon the projected journey to Peru. 
It was a hazardous undertaking for a young man under 
twenty-one to leave his own country, turn aside from 
his old home and acquaintances, and launch himself 
into new scenes and new surroundings in a foreign 
land, without money and without friends, and begin 
the battle of life with all the odds against him. It was 
hard enough when he had Lars with him, but now that 
he was absolutely alone he shrank in dismay from the 
thought of going. Lars was a wide-awake young man, 
older for his years than he, and Lars had given up. 
Why should he go ? Why not give it up and return 
to Oshkosh ? It would be much easier and pleasanter 
to resume his old work again than to take the chances 
of defeat in a strange land. And Celia ? The thought 
of Celia had never been out of his mind since he had 
written the last letter to her in the little sitting-room 
on Pearl Street. There was a melancholy sweetness in 
thinking of her that calmed his perturbed feelings, and 
in his heart lie felt that the journey to Peru had been 
planned on her account. He had resolved, in the 


RUS IN URBE 


II3 

desperation of his feelings, that he would rise above 
his surroundings, and make such a success in life that 
Celia would at least regret that she had cast him off. 
All his arrangements had been closed at Oshkosh — the 
transferring of the land to Captain Sangster, the dis- 
posal of the house among the Lombardy poplars and 
the sale of the furniture, the letter to his sister in 
Minnesota, and every preparation made for his depar- 
ture, when he felt that he could not go without one 
more sight of the object of his former love. Hastening 
to Hew London, he had spent a day in the woods where 
he could look upon Celia, where he could at least be 
near her and breathe the same air and feel that she 
was near him, even if he could not speak to her. The 
day thus spent clandestinely near her was one of the 
happiest in his life, and now, as he thought of her with 
her downcast eyes and soft, low voice, singing quietly 
to herself, he felt his determination strengthen within 
him, and he began to wonder why he should have 
thought of abandoning his journey. His life had been 
such that he had been compelled to rely upon himself, 
to meet an emergency with his own judgment, and 
he had already formulated in his mind the outline of 
a belief that when he had once thoroughly and con- 
scientiously considered a given subject, and made a 
decision thereon, it stood, like the decision of a court 
of last resort, final for all practical purposes. Subse- 
quent circumstances might arise to make him doubt 
the wisdom of his decision, but he had been in the 
habit of defending such a decision, on the ground that 
when he made it he had before him all the circum- 
stances of the case, and had decided it according to the 
light he had, and he felt that finite wisdom could do 
no more. The ultimate consequences he left with God, 
but such a decision was binding to him until he was 
driven by force to abandon it. This was the course 
which he had been endeavouring to follow whenever 
he was undecided in any matter of importance, and 

H 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


II4 

when he had thoroughly reviewed the situation, sitting 
on his trunk with the letter from Lars in his hand, he 
could see but one course open to him. With his mind 
completely at ease, he arose and quietly completed the 
packing of his trunk. 

Inquiry at the office brought out the fact that Lars 
had ordered his trunk brought down from the passage- 
way outside, and had left for Jersey City before day- 
light to catch an early train from the West. 

When the porter lifted his trunk a white envelope 
was found on the floor, and the porter handed it to 
Horatio. It contained a roll of paper money, but 
Horatio thrust it into an inside pocket of his coat 
without looking at it. 

Between nine and ten o’clock Horatio mounted the 
seat of the express waggon which carried his trunk, 
and started for the dock at the foot of Canal Street. 

The old barn-like warehouse of the Pacific Mail was 
in a state of lively confusion. Teams were constantly 
arriving with loads of baggage, carriages drove in with 
passengers, men were hurrying around with packages 
and bundles, and in one corner a clerk was busily 
engaged in weighing trunks and boxes and collecting 
pay for extra baggage. In the office, near the street, 
a crowd surrounded the desk of the clerk who was 
selling passage-tickets, and it was fifteen minutes before 
Horatio could get near enough to secure his ticket. 
When he had paid for one first-class passage to Aspin- 
wall, the roll of greenbacks he had brought from 
Oshkosh had a weary, desolate look. His trunk had 
been taken from the pile and weighed, and he was 
given a pink slip containing a number printed in big 
black letters, which he was told was a check to be 
presented to the clerk of the steamer at Aspinwall 
when he wanted his trunk. Then, with his passage- 
ticket in his hand, he walked up the gangway, and, for 
the first time in his life, he found himself on board an 
ocean steamship. 


CHAPTER XIII 
HE GOES TO SEA 

The Ocean Queen was one of the three steamers running 
between New York and the Isthmus of Panama. She 
was a magnificent specimen of the side-wheel steamer, 
now almost entirely superseded by the screw propeller. 
After the discovery of gold in California, the quickest 
and most comfortable route to the Pacific coast was 
by way of Panama, and the Pacific Mail steamers from 
New York, and their connecting steamships between 
Panama and San Francisco, carried the crowds of pas- 
sengers afterwards handled by the Transcontinental 
railway lines, but the excitement and interest attend- 
ing the traffic by water has long since passed away. 

Horatio found his state-room, which was to be shared 
by two others, and after locating himself, he started 
to take a survey of the steamer. From below came a 
moist odour of cooking and boiled cabbage, but the 
decks were clean, and the broad cabin with its long 
tables, the long row of state-rooms, the immense 
wheel-houses, the officers hurrying about giving orders 
to the men, the passengers and their friends indulg- 
ing in the usual parting interview, the general noise, 
bustle, and apparent confusion, all were so entirely 
new to him that he was interested in everything he 
saw. It was not until the last visitor had left the 
ship, the bell sounded, the gigantic paddle-wheels 
slowly revolved, and the huge ship moved slowly from 
her dock, that he actually realised that his journey 
had begun. More than a thousand passengers were 
115 


I 1 6 THE MAN FROM OSH KOSH 

on the ship. Those of the first and second class were 
separated by the different decks, and were all stowed 
away in state-rooms more or less commodious, but 
the greatest number were in the steerage, where the 
accommodations were those of actual necessity, con- 
sisting simply of a blanket at night, and a dish of 
soup or boiled meat and vegetables at meal-time. 

Slowly out into the stream the steamer moved, and 
then past the long succession of piers and docks with 
steamships and river steamboats moored and in motion, 
down by the Battery and out through the bay, the 
streets and large buildings of the city passing in rapid 
succession far astern and out of sight. The breeze 
felt on deck seemed to strengthen as the wheels re- 
volved faster and faster, and the salt air of the ocean 
had an invigorating odour that made the blood move 
rapidly in his veins, and the passengers stood about the 
deck in little knots, some of them with opera-glasses, 
and all taking a last look at the city in the distance. 

Horatio found himself among the mixed throng of 
travellers on the deck with a feeling of utter loneli- 
ness. It seemed as if every one else he saw had com- 
panionship, had assistance and consolation in the trying 
hour when the ship started on her long journey, but 
he realised that for himself there was nothing of the 
kind. As the last landmark in the direction of the 
city faded in the distance, and the coast-line- became 
more indistinct, the ship began to feel the swell of 
the ocean, and the motion was not altogether pleasant ; 
and as the dim line became still fainter, and before 
dark had passed completely out of sight, he was com- 
pelled to ask himself again and again if his departure 
from his own country was altogether the right thing. 

The problem of life to a young man thrown entirely 
upon his own resources seems difficult and often im- 
possible of successful solution. Childhood passes and 
youth merges into manhood. Then, with the vista of 
the future opening before him, diverse paths beckon him 


HE GOES TO SEA 


II7 


onward. When age has brought wisdom and experi- 
ence has taught him to distiugiiish good from evil, he 
can look back and say, This was good and that was 
bad, on one side lay danger and on the other safety ; 
but youth means inexperience, lack of wisdom, a time 
of experiment, the enjoyment of sensual pleasure, a 
testing of theories, almost a groping in the dark. 
Then the innate qualities of mind and heart exert 
themselves. The best of men, men of years and 
discretion, are subject to human weaknesses, vanity, 
self-conceit, sordidness of spirit, unworthy ambition, 
selfishness, and the crowd of vulgar passions, but these 
men are restrained, like a single brick in a row, by 
environment, by love of approbation, by family ties 
and fear of the world, the thraldom of habit and a 
thousand connections that compel them to follow in 
the groove marked out for them. Many of these 
restraining influences are lacking to the young man, 
and the natural buoyancy of youth fires the passions 
at a time when the judgment is unformed and the 
lesson of life unlearned. When to all these complexities 
is added the necessity of actually deciding the question 
of his life-work and the direction in which he is 
to exert himself, and he realises that he must rely 
solely upon himself both for the design of his plan in 
life and the execution of its more minute details, the 
problem deepens in perplexity. Fortunate, indeed, 
is the youth then whose mind is sufficiently clear to 
enable him to form a distinct ideal, high and noble, 
whose moral susceptibilities are sufficiently strong to 
prevent colour-blindness as to things influenced by the 
passions, and whose will is powerful enough to carry 
forward to successful execution the designs and de- 
tails engendered in his mind. With limited experience 
to sharpen his judgment, natural impulses have great 
sway, and it is well if he has been thrown under cir- 
cumstances which give a healthful tone to his mind 
and train his ambition in an upward direction. 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Il8 

If the good spirits above look down upon this earth 
and keep watch over the struggles and efforts of poor 
weak humanity on its way through the world, surely 
they must watch with kindness and affection the trials 
and temptations of a young man as he starts out in the 
battle of life, for then, if ever, a man needs and deserves 
something more than human love and human wisdom. 

Horatio lacked not a high ideal. lie could not 
remember a time when he did not feel an aspiration 
for something above the horizon of his own life, when 
he did not feel that for him there was in the future 
somewhere a condition of superiority, and that in its 
own good time his merits would meet just appreciation. 
To most men and women, success in life means the 
acquisition of wealth, but to him the mere getting of 
money was a secondary, and even a more remote con- 
sideration. The attainment of a reasonable position 
in life and the proper training and development of his 
faculties would be followed by their legitimate reward 
in a pecuniary sense, but as he viewed it, in the sunny 
exuberance of j^outhful ambition, happiness was to come 
to him in the flowering and budding of his mind and 
the success of his plans rather than in the pleasure 
of accumulation. He realised that from his level of a 
poor, unfriended young man to the higlier plane of 
intellectual superiority, and all that is comprehended 
in the word success in its true sense, the distance was 
immeasurable, but his confidence never forsook liim, 
and he believed as truly as he did in his own existence 
that success would come to him if he lived. 

The sudden determination to go to South America 
resolved upon, after careful deliberation, seemed wisest 
to him, the more he considered and reconsidered it. 
He was a boy, yet with a man’s ambition, and in that 
far-off country he would be thrown under circumstances 
which would call for discretion and tiy him severely, 
that he was prepared for, but the opportunities for 
^ success would be correspondingly more numerous. He 


HE GOES TO SEA 


II9 

had the belief common to all ambitious young men, 
that only the opportunity was lacking. Once placed 
where great actions are called for and good cpialities 
are necessary, he would meet the emergency manfully, 
and he had no doubt of the result. He would work 
hard, make money, improve himself in every way, and 
ill due time return to his own countiy, where he could 
enjoy the benefit of his labours in the congenial atmos- 
phere of his childhood’s home. 

The first few days at sea passed uneventfully. When 
once entirely out of sight of land the sensation to 
Horatio was one of curious fear. In his berth at night 
he canvassed silently the probability of an accident 
which would sink the ship, and then the possibility of 
reaching land. Repeatedly he estimated the number 
of passengers which it was possible to carry in one of 
the ship’s boats, and the danger of shipwreck to boats 
thus loaded so far from shore, the chances of securing 
water and supplies for the small boats, and the awful 
shock which must occur when the . accident became 
known to the passengers. Every time the steamer 
lurched, and every, time the wheels moved faster or 
more slowly, as the waves lifted them above the crest 
or sunk the wheel-house in a mountain of water, a 
thrill of terror almost paralysed him, and he was glad 
when sleep closed his eyes and shut from his conscious- 
ness thoughts so terrifying. In a short time, however, 
he became habituated to his surroundings, and the 
steady throb of the wheels acted as a lullaby, and the 
night brought sound sleep and sweet dreams, for 
youth and health aided by a clear conscience are proof 
against many evils. 

In the great crowd of passengers there were few he 
cared to become familiar with. He had as companions 
in his state-room two Germans on the way to Cali- 
fornia. They could speak but little English, and his 
intercourse with them was very limited. 

On the second day out of New York, he had a 


I 20 


THE HAN FROM OSEKoSH 


conversation with a bright-looking young man, a few 
years older than himself, who proved to be an Ameri- 
can from Philadelphia on his way to Valparaiso, 
where he intended to begin the practice of dentistry. 
Dr. Braddon he called himself. Soon a third young 
man appeared on the deck where the two were con- 
versing, and Dr. Braddon introduced him as Mr. 
Sinclair, a clerk in the Panama Eailroad office at 
Aspinwall. Mr. Sinclair was from Maryland, and had 
been at home on a short vacation. He was a thin, 
swarth}" young man, who spoke English with a strong 
accent of the Southern States, while Dr. Braddon used 
excellent grammar, and showed in his conversation the 
results ot* education. 

The next day he fell in with a young Englishman, 
]\Ir. Upton, who Avas returning to Peru with his wife, 
having married in England six weeks before. He had 
stopped in NeAv York a foitnight. to A isit his brother. 
Hoiatio Avas greatly interested in him, as one Avho had 
been in I’eru, and could tell him about the country 
that Avas to be his home. Mr. Upton Avas employed in 
the office of the Steamship Company at Callao. Peru 
Avas a good country to live in, he said. A man had a 
much better chance to do something for himself there 
than in the old country, for money was abundant, 
business was good, the climate Avas pleasant and 
healthful, and foreigners had the advantage, because 
they could Avork harder, and accomplish more than 
the natives. Still, he did not expect to spend his life 
there. As soon as he had made some money, he should 
return to England, and settle down. England is so 
crowded, don't you know, that a young fellow has no 
chance to get a start. 

While Horatio was talking Avith the young English- 
man on the forAvard deck one day, Mrs. Upton ap- 
proached, and, leaning upon her husband’s arm, soon 
took part in the conversation, addressing him as well as 
her husband. 


HE CIUJCS 'ro SEA 


I 2 I 


Horatio was cliarmed with her. ^S]le was abort 
twenty years (']J. with a clear yiink and white com- 
plexion. brown hair ar:d t‘yes, and evidently the ])Os- 
sessor of a sunny dis])osilic;n that made evei}' one lier 
friend on fiist accjiiaintance. Horatio was surprised 
that her husband did not introduce him, but as the 
lady did not wait for an introduction, they speedily 
became fast friends. 

There were Californians on the steamer in gi’eat 
numbers, and a few Chilians, Ecuadorians, Columbians, 
and Peruvians. Horatio was struck with the appear- 
ance of these South Americans, the first he had seen, 
and he studied them with an absorbing curiosity. 
They were generally short but well-formed men, with 
jet black hair and eyes and dark complexion. Almost 
always they were smoking cigarettes, and at the table 
whenever he had- seen them, they seemed to be con- 
suming great quantities of wine. The wine, however, 
did not appear to intoxicate them, but, on the contrary, 
they inevitably displayed great courtesy in their man- 
ners and were generally pleasing. But his greatest 
surprise was when, on the deck after dinner, two or 
three of the ladies who were going to their home in 
Ecuador began to smoke cigarettes as naturally as the 
men. The ladies had large lustrous dark eyes and 
olive complexions, but the habit of smoking seemed 
to obliterate all thoughts of their beauty from his 
mind. 

The course of the steamer was almost due south. 
At noon each day a placard was posted in the dining- 
saloon giving the latitude and longitude of the ship 
and the total number of miles run in the preceding 
twenty-four hours. From this it appeared that the 
steamer followed a certain degree of longitude, and 
every day brought them nearer the equator. 

For a few days after the ship left JSTew York, the 
air was fresh and cool, but after the Gulf Stream was 
reached a genial warmth was apparent, and during 


122 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


the day the heat became stronger, and at night the 
air was mild as midsummer. The water of the Gulf 
Stream was a rich dark violet, and day after day the 
steamer passed a continuous field of brown seaweed 
floating towards the north-east. Off Cape Hatteras, 
several sailing vessels were seen, and when the steamer 
was opposite Florida, she seemed to cross the track of 
the fleet of ships from Europe sailing for New Orleans 
and Mobile for cotton, and at times as many as a 
dozen sails could be seen, with occasionally a steamer, 
enlivening the day for all the passengers. 

One evening in the Caribbean Sea, as the sun was 
sinking in the west, the whole sky, from the horizon 
to the zenith, was illuminated with tintings of golden 
yellow, while the few fleecy clouds seemed bathed in 
a soft light of purple and pearl. As far as the eye 
could reach in any direction, the water lay almost in a 
dead calm. The delicate orange of the western sky, 
warming into giintings of rich crimson and grey, 
melted again towards the east into slate and brown 
and blue, and the bosom of the ocean reflected back 
the stripings of light, until sea and sky seemed one 
homogeneous mass of colour, separated only by the 
distant horizon. A gentle breeze, odorous of tropical 
verdure and the sensuous breath of tropical spring on 
the distant islands, freshened the air without disturb- 
ing it. No sound broke upon the ear save the mono- 
tonous whirr of the steamer’s engine and the soothing 
splash of the wheels. 

Our young man from the north sat upon the forward 
deck lost in admiration as he gazed upon the scene, 
the sky and the brilliant sea of liquid colour surround- 
ing him. In his life, spent among the prosaic scenes 
of the northern regions of America, he had never 
witnessed anything approaching it in beauty and im- 
pressiveness. His mind was lifted up by the con- 
templation, and the ship and passengers were for the 
moment forgotten. 


HE GOES TO SEA I 23 

“ Do you admire the sunset, Mr. Juniper ? ” Mrs. 
Upton asked. 

She had approached with her Imshand. and the two 
stood leaning over the rail gazing at the western sky. 

I can understand now why heaven is painted as a 
place of beauty and gorgeous with rich colouring,” 
he answered, ‘‘ and I can see why people have always 
believed that heaven was somewhere in the sky above 
us. Looking at those clouds, it is easy to believe in 
that direction is the place of eternal rest, and surely 
this delicious tropical atmosphere suggests a heavenly 
climate.” 

“Yes,” said Mr. Upton, “ the orthodox belief provides 
for a tropical climate, if we don’t behave oniselves.” 

“ Such a sight,” said Horatio, without heeding the 
interruption, “ enables one to imagine something of 
the beauty possible at the hands of God. I believe 
happiness in the next world will come with the per- 
fecting of our earthly natures, and our ideas here will 
be expanded and come to full fruition in the world to 
come.” 

Dr. Braddon and Mr. Sinclair had come up while 
he was talking, and they joined the little group. 

“But surely,” said Dr. Braddon, “you do not be- 
lieve in a personal God, who manages this business at 
the beck and call of Tom, Dick, and Harry who may 
address him ? ” 

“ What do you mean ? ” Horatio asked. 

“ Of course we will admit the idea of a God or a 
superior power. But now, if one of us should ask 
Him to change His laws for us — in other words, if we 
should pray to Him to save us from shipwreck or to 
interfere specially for us by changing the conditions 
of nature, do you suppose for a moment He would 
do it ? ” 

“ The Bible teaches it,” said Mr. Upton. 

“ The Bible is a collection of traditions,” said Mr. 
Sinclair, “ and no one now believes in it literally.” 


124 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“ It is hard to understand infinity,” replied Horatio, 
“ but I can believe it possible that the Supreme Ruler 
can intercede in my behalf and yet not interfere with 
the laws of nature.” 

“ If the laws of physical nature decree a storm, and 
the storm wrecks this ship, and you are in danger of 
drowning, how can prayer save you ? ” 

“ I can’t measure the distance to the sun with a 
yard-stick, and I do not understand how any one can 
compute it, yet I believe that it can be accurately 
ascertained in spite of that ; so the exact operation of 
prayer is difficult to describe, but because I can’t de- 
scribe it I don’t feel like repudiating it entirely.” 

“The whole theory rests upon an exploded tradi- 
tion,” said Dr. Braddon. 

“In the early dawn of civilisation men were like 
children. They were taught by the Church that God 
made the earth in six days, and rested on the Sabbath. 
The Church taught that God gave His Son to redeem 
the w'orld, and that the coming of Christ had been 
foretold a certain number of years before. Everything 
that the Bible taught was true, and any principle of 
science that contradicted the Bible was false 'prima 
fade. Now science teaches that the biblical creation 
was impossible, and the earth has existed millions of 
years instead of a few thousand. The whole scheme 
of the Christian religion falls to the ground, a harm- 
less superstition.” 

“We must look at the subject from a higher stand- 
point,” said Horatio. 

“I believe in the existence of God, and I cannot 
see that the discoveiies of science necessarily disprove 
the biblical record. Mankind has always believed in 
a Creator. Even savages have a tradition that a 
Supreme Being at one time created the world. Science 
admits the act of creation, but calls it evolution, and 
extends the period over countless ages. Now, the pre- 
servation of the universe, subject as it is to inexorable 


HE GOES TO SEA 


125 


law, with all its countless myriads of living creatures, 
is as great a miracle, and calls for the exercise of as 
great power, as the original creation itself. Because 
I cannot understand it, am I to say that it cannot 
be ? Once admit that the universe is obedient to law, 
and it is not difficult to believe that law had com- 
mencement when matter was brought into existence 
and placed in obedience to law ; and once admit the 
act of creation and all the rest is easy. To an all- 
powerful Creator it is an easy task by one creative 
act to make strata of coal containing fossils, or a series 
of rocks lying one upon another, but these do not 
necessarily prove age. Suppose the creative power 
were to make an oak-tree, would the rings in the wood 
prove positively that the oak was a hundred years old. 
if we knew that it was created yesterday ? You can 
resolve the universe into matter, and make matter 
subject to law, and call that law the Creator, and thus 
eliminate the personality of God entirely, but you then 
have nothing but matter, and the soul or intellectual 
part is omitted. Matter never created mind, and 
never can, and the perfection of mind or intellect is 
God. You cannot resolve thought into cubic inches, 
and you cannot limit the power of the Almighty by 
studying the formation of the earth’s crust.” 

“ But if we admit a j^ositive creation,” asked Dr. 
Braddon, “how does it follow that the operations of 
nature are suspended, as they must be whenever God 
answeis prayer ? ” 

“God is intellect in its perfection, and He is love 
itself. How He can answer prayer I do not pretend 
to explain, for I do not know, but there are many 
things I believe in that I cannot explain. Where does 
the maternal instinct come from ? Why does a parent 
love a child ? What causes thought itself ? Where 
is the seat of the intellect ? Can any one explain ? 
I believe that God governs not only the universe, but 
watches over every created being. As the power of 


126 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


God exceeds the power of man, so God’s love excels 
the love of man, and nothing but infinity itself can 
understand either infinite love or infinite power.” 

“ Then you do not agree with scientific men in the 
study of geology when they declare that the earth de- 
veloped from vapour to licpiid and from liquid to solid, 
and so through millions of years to the present ? ” 

“ It would be ridiculous in me to speak positively 
as to what I know so little about. It is much easier 
for me to accept the theoiy of an actual creation. No 
geologist ever evolved soul or intellect from simple 
animal or vegetable life. God created man and breathed 
into him the breath of life. The scientist can explain 
the evolution of matter from the lower forms of 
animal life tlirough the reptiles, the fishes, the verte- 
brates up to the higher orders of animal life, but there 
he must stop. The highest type of brute creation is 
as different from man as man is different from God. 
Man’s animal nature might be explained as a develop- 
ment from the brute, but no process of evolution can 
bridge the chasm between the instinct of the brute and 
the intellect of man. It is easier to believe that man 
gets his mind or soul directly from God as an actual 
creation than to think he is a species of improved 
brute.” 

“ But some of the ablest thinkers believe in an 
actual development of man from the lowest forms of 
animal existence.” 

“ True, the mind of man knows no limitations, and 
in his search after truth nothing is sacred from his 
investigations. No theoiy is safe against his experi- 
ments, and every discovery in science seems to neces- 
sitate a reconstruction of previous beliefs. The more 
deeply one studies, the less he believes, and among the 
advocates of evolution the perfection of wisdom seems 
to be the confession of ignorance. Agnosticism is simply 
the absence of belief. Now I prefer a little of the old- 
fashioned belief such as children are taught. Infinite 


HE GOES TO SEA 


I 27 

wisdom and infinite love in tlie Creator will cover a 
multitude of apparent inconsistencies. When I think 
of the Supreme Being as an all-wise, all-powerful, and 
all-loving Father, it gives me more satisfaction than to 
endeavour to reconcile the fragments of science which 
man has worked out with the story of his creation.” 

“ Isn't it a childish conception of the Creator to 
believe that He exercises a personal supervision over 
man and answers prayer just as an earthly father 
grants the requests of a child ? It seems a nobler 
idea of God to think He is a power who simply works 
through fixed law wliich is never varied. In other 
words, God is Nature, and man is an atom, like a 
leaf or a flower. It does not seem possible that the 
Divine economy, which holds in place an infinite series 
of worlds circling around in an infinite extent of space, 
can bother Himself to listen to my request when I pray 
to Him to save my life or to rescue me from ship- 
wreck.” 

“ It is difficult for man to comprehend the infinite. 
Take the movements of the heavenly bodies as an 
illustration. Science tells us that there are stars so 
far distant that it requires thousands of years for their 
light to reach the earth, and that beyond the farthest 
known star there are myriads of other stars, and worlds 
scattered about in immeasurable space. Now man 
may say it is impossible that any one power should 
see the whole of the universe because the rays of light 
cannot reach far enough or move fast enough to bring 
them in sight at any one point or one time. This is 
applying human instrumentalities to the measurement 
of the infinite. Man is too apt to make a God after 
his own image, and limit God’s power by giving Him 
human capacity. An engineer standing on one side of 
a broad river can measure with his instruments the 
height of a tree upon the opposite side much more 
accurately than if he had climbed to the top of it, 
but an Indian who watched liim might reason that the 


128 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


engineer could not possibly have measured the tree 
because he had not touched it. Unless we can under- 
stand something of infinite capacity, we are not justified 
in placing it under finite limitations.” 

“ Then you believe that God is a personal God, who 
looks after you, and watches over everything you do ? ” 

, “ His power I cannot doubt, neither do I doubt His 
wisdom. Both are unlimited, and can easily be demon- 
strated. His love is equally without limit, and while 
its extent may not be easily proved, it is much more 
satisfactory to believe in it than to doubt it. Love is 
the power that gives life and happiness to the world. 
Divine love is as much superior to human love, as God 
is superior to man. Why should I limit it ? I cannot 
understand God as I can understand the mechanism 
of a watch, or the petals of a flower, but if I grant a 
design in creation and wisdom in the operations of 
nature, why should I set up a limit and say. Thus far 
it is God, but beyond that it is all chance ? Man lives 
but a few years until he realises that in himself he is 
weak and powerless, and it is only human to rely upon 
some strength greater than his own. If there is a 
design in the creation of the universe, and if the 
movements of the heavenly bodies, the succession of 
the seasons, all the operations of nature are controlled 
by Divine law, why should I stop there, and say that 
the movements of man alone are exempt from that 
law ? That there is some connection, some vital con- 
necting link between the mind of man and the Creator, 
by which one communes with the other, has been so 
often demonstrated, that it has long ago become a matter 
of belief. Mind acts often upon mind among men, 
and this operation of the mind cannot be satisfactorily 
explained. Scientists call it mesmerism, or mind- 
reading, but that does not explain it. Millions of 
men and women have lived and died firm in the belief 
that they have sent up requests to God, and that God 
has definitely answered them. You can call it super- 


HE GOES TO SEA 


129 


stition or ignorance, and say it is impossible, but that 
does not explain it any more than mind-reading is 
explained by calling it mesmerism. In dealing with 
questions which cannot be settled with mathematical 
certainty, the belief of vast numbers of people who 
have closely studied the question is generally admitted 
to be worth considering ; and tested by this method, 
there is at least a very reasonable probability that the 
Supreme Being extends His watchful care over the 
minutest individual, and even listens to requests for 
help, and actually to grant such requests.” 

*• Thank you veiy much,” said Mrs. Upton. 

Dr. Braddon and Mr. Sinclair were willing to adjourn 
the discussion, and as the party separated, the stars 
were shining in the great vault of heaven with phos- 
phorescent brilliancy. 


( 


CHAPTEK XIV 

CROSSING THE CONTINENT 

When the passengers came out of their cabins the 
next morning, the Ocean Queen was lying at anchor 
in the harbour at AspinwalL The air was warm and 
damp. A low line of shore extended around the bay 
almost like a horse-shoe. Palm-trees could be seen on 
the land, and in the distance the city, with a monu- 
ment on the point of land near the sea. Two or three 
small schooners passed near the steamer. Half-naked 
negroes made up the crew of each, and cocoa-nuts the 
cargo. The water of the bay was yellow, and the wind 
smelled like decayed vegetables. Before seven o’clock 
the engines started up, and slowly the huge ship moved 
towards the dock, where, after interminable backing 
and starting, and vociferation from the captain and 
shouting from the lower officers, she was finally moored, 
and the gang-plank run out to the wharf. 

The dock was roofed' over with dingy, unpainted 
boards. A railroad track extended almost to the edge 
of the wharf, and a long train of cars was drawn up 
and waiting for the passengers. The men on the dock 
were negroes from Jamaica, who spoke English like an 
Irishman, and jabbered among themselves and to the 
passengers like monkejis. 

The steerage passengers were disembarked first. 
They hurried out of the ship as if glad to be released 
from their imprisonment, the men carrying bags, sat- 
chels, and trunks, and the women holding babies in 
their arms, many of them well dressed, and a few very 

130 


CROSSING THE CONTINENT 


I3I 

soiled and dirty. In fifteen minutes the train was 
loaded, and it slowly disappeared from sight. 

An hour later another train backed in upon tlie 
dock, and by this time another load of passengers witli 
their luggage was ready. Dr. Braddon, i\Ir. and Mrs. 
Upton, and Horatio said a hurried farev\ell to Mr. Sin- 
clair, and prepared for the journey across tlie Isthmus. 
Tickets for Panama were $25 gold for each person, 
and Horatio’s astonishment was great when he was 
informed that his paper money would be received only 
at a discount of forty per cent. When the ticket was 
paid for, his roll of greenbacks, with its integrity thus 
discredited, seemed to look still more lonely and feeble. 
The cars had large windows, which admitted the moist, 
tepid air. As tlie train moved out from the dock, it 
passed through the streets of Aspinwall, or Colon, as 
the South Americans call it, showing its odd-looking 
tropical vegetation, palm-trees, banana trees, and great 
trees bearing bright red blossoms, the white-washed 
houses, with their swarm of negroes, little and big. The 
few white men in sight were dressed in light clothing, 
and all seemed to move slowly and composedly, as if 
haste or hard work was an original sin; and every- 
thing in sight from the windows of the car had an 
indescribable air of strangeness, and even the negroes 
appeared as if they might have just come from Africa, 
and not at all like the negroes in the United States. 

Out of the city sped the train, over a low marshy 
country with an occasional cut through the red clay, 
and along the banks of the Chagres Ptiver, whose muddy 
current moved sluggishly, as if it partook of the lazy 
characteristics of the people. The population, wher- 
ever human beings appeared ©in sight at the little 
stations and at the crossings, seemed to be made up 
(uitirely of tlie Africans. Negro women clothed in a 
single short garment of white cotton sat in the doors of 
the low huts, laughing and chattering among them- 
selves, and broods of black children basked in the sun 


132 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


like little pigs, many of them absolutely naked, but all 
seemingly happy and contented. The whole country, 
as seen from the cars, was an idler’s paradise, for of the 
hundreds of human creatures that appeared in sight, 
only two or three were at work, and these were evidently 
making light of their labour, 

Agriculture, as it is understood in the North, was no- 
where visible. There were thousands of banana-trees 
in sight from the train, with their bunches of green 
fruit; but the fields were not enclosed, and the great 
trees seemed to be growing in their native luxuriance, 
with but little attention from man. Eain evidently 
fell at times in copious abundance, for the whole 
country seemed reeking in moisture, and the vegeta- 
tion was rank with tropical fertility. Curiously shaped 
trees, and flowers new to northern eyes, and dense 
jungles of tangled shrubbery covered the earth, as the 
train hurried along, and at last a long, piercing whistle 
announced the approach to Panama, and after a journey 
of three houi's the forty-seven miles across the Isthmus 
were accomplished, and our voyager from the North had 
his first view of the Pacific. 

If Colon seemed un-American and foreign, Panama 
intensified the impression, for here everything was 
cosmopolitan and strange. The same naked negro 
children and the same universal African were to be seen, 
but the white men were dark as to their complexion, 
and European as to their language and manners. The 
town looked as if its construction had been completed 
shortly after the discovery of America, and nothing had 
been done since to keep it in repair. Many of the 
signs on the shops were in Spanish, some in French, 
and a few in English, while the Chinese had appro- 
priated a portion of the town, and several of the finest 
shops. 

Horatio was fortunate in having for a companion Mr. 
Upton, who had been over the route once before, and 
whose knowledge of the Spanish enabled him to meet 


CROSSING THE CONTINENT 


133 


the native 011 his own ground. At the station, tlio 
trunks were secured and placed in the hands of a JieUro, 
who was to deliver them for five rials apiece at the 
hotel, and then a carriage was chartered for two pes(js 
to carry the Uptons and Horatio to the best hotel. 

Up-hill and down-hill, past rows of negro huts, and 
over roughly paved streets, went the carriage, propelled 
by a single half-starved horse, and it drew up at length 
in front of a large three-storey building opposite the 
Plaza. It was the Grand Hotel. In the centre of the 
Plaza was a small garden with flowers and flowering 
trees. Opposite was the cathedral, a large old-fashioned 
building badly kept, and on the other side of the square 
were shops, Spanish, French, Chinese, and English, many 
of them filled with cigars and cigarettes, and most of 
the others devoted to selling exchange and the business 
of a pawnbroker. 

“ Stranger here ? ” said the hotel-keeper to Horatio 
after the party had entered the hotel and the names 
had been enrolled in the register. He had^examined 
the word Oshkosh, after Horatio’s name, with some 
curiosity, as if uncertain whether it was Russian, or 
Mexican, or American. 

“ Finest climate in the world, sir,” he continued. 
“ Lived here five years, and never been sick a day.” 

He was a Spanish-looking man, but spoke English 
well. 

“ Are you a Spaniard ? ” asked Horatio. 

“Born in Nuorlens,” said the hotel-keeper, “but Fd 
rather live in Panama a thousand times. We never 
have any sickness here. Old people live to be ninety 
and a hundred years. If it wasn’t for a revolution 
now and then to kill off the crowd, the Isthmus would 
be so thickly settled that you couldn’t move. Finest 
climate in the world, sir. Go to your room, sir ? Here, 
boy, show the gemman to No. 9. Best room in the 
house, sir ; looks right out on the Plaza. Breakfast 
will be ready at twelve o’clock, sir.” 


34 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Horatio walked up the dirty stairway, and noticed 
the damp spots on the walls where the paper had be- 
come mouldy and dropped oh'. A mirror had been so 
corroded with the humidity that the mercury on the 
back of the glass was peeling oft' 

No. 9 was a square room at the front of the hotel 
overlooking the Plaza. It contained an iron bed- 
stead, on which was a mattress, two or three chairs, a 
w^ashstand, and a closed armoire. The floor was bare. 
Several weeks before it had been clean. The mattress 
was marked with clearly deflned squares from the rust 
deposited by the iron slats of the bedstead. Flies 
buzzed around the room with an angry and warlike 
tone, as if threatening dire vengeance because they 
had been disturbed. 

At breakfast Mrs. Upton was almost in hysterics. 

“ Do you know,” said she, “ I want to leave Panama 
this instant. I cannot stay in the horrid place a 
moment longer.” 

“I don’t see how we can leave,” said i\lr. Upton. 
“ The steamer does not sail until day after to-morrow.” 

“ Will you believe it ? ” she said to Horatio. “ I 
have been talking with an American lady who lives 
here, and she says my room was occupied by people 
who died of yellow fever. Three people died in tlie 
room next to mine the last time they had the fever 
here. Oh, oh, oh ! ” and she covered her face with her 
hands. 

“ Nonsense ! ” said Mr. Upton consolingly ; you never 
saw a hotel that had not been occupied by people who 
have died. There is no yellow fever here now. Your 
room is just as good as any room in the hotel. Wait 
until to-morrow, and then we can go on board the 
steamer.” 

“Just think of it!” resumed Mrs. Upton. “This 
lady says she looked out of her window one morning 
when she was stopping in the house, and right there 
on the Plaza she saw a dead man who had been killed 


CROSSING THE CONTINENT I 35 

in a fight the night before, and the buzzards were pick- 
ing his eyes out ! Oh, oh, oh ! ” 

Somehow Horatio did not like the taste of the food 
after that. The fried bananas had a disagreeable look, 
the steak was tough and the l)read was hard, while the 
tea gurgled maliciously as it sputtered through the 
little strainer hanging under the nose of the tin teapot. 

“Now, Algernon — Mr. Upton,” said the lady, wiping 
her pretty brown eyes with her little lace handkerchief 
and looking her husband squarely in the face, “you 
must take me away from this nasty place immediately. 
I don’t care if the tide is out ; I’ll walk. Go and hire 
a small boat, and let’s go on board the steamer.” 

As soon as the breakfast was concluded, Mr. Upton 
and Horatio visited the steamship agency and bought 
their tickets. The tide was out, and the steam-launch 
would not go until eleven o’clock the next day. “ Yes, 
you can hire a small boat to row you out, but it will 
cost more.” 

Horatio had intended to visit the famous Chiriqui 
prison, once the old Spanish fortress, where men were 
immured in dungeons beneath the sea like the cells of 
the Chateau d’lf, but he was glad to go on with the 
Uptons. 

In an hour the luggage had been despatched to the 
I’anama Eailroad docks, and the party were in a car- 
riage trying to leave the Grand Hotel as far behind as 
possible. 

A half-dozen prisoners, with ball and chain attached 
to their feet, were at work mending the street, with a 
New Granada soldier about four feet high, armed with 
a rille and bayonet, standing over each. 

For five pesos, two Jamaica negroes contracted to row 
the party, baggage and all, out to the steamer. 


CHAPTEK XV 
DOWN THE COAST 

A LONG mole extending into the sea was supported by 
iron columns. It was enclosed with rough boards, dis- 
coloured by the heavy rains, and the tracks of the rail- 
road reached to the outer edge, and long lines of brown 
freight cars with merchandise stood ready to be unloaded 
into the barges, and then taken out to the steamships 
at anchor in the bay. 

Slimy green rocks covered with seaweed, and foul, 
ill-smelling stones partially covered with water, made 
up the foreground, and from the floor of the dock to 
the water was almost thirty feet, for it was low tide. 
The steam-launch that rides safely alongside when the 
tide is in was out by the ships in the bay. She could 
not come within a mile of the pier while the tide 
was out. 

Down a stairway of stone steps in another part of 
the harbour, where there was a little more water, the 
Uptons and Mr. Juniper passed into a broad, squarely 
built row-boat, with a single sail furled to the mast in 
the middle. The three trunks and two or three bags 
liad been arranged in such a manner as to form a good 
ballast for the craft. Mr. Upton took the tiller, and 
with a coloured man at each of the oars the boat started. 

Xo steamers were in sight, but the course of the boat 
took them out in the bay, where they soon had a fine 
view of the city in the distance. It was easy to recog- 
nise the cathedral, the grim sea-wall of the old fort 
of Chiriqui, and the quaint jumble of red- tiled roofs. 


DOWN THE COAST • I 37 

weather-stained walls, and old Spanish buildings, en- 
livened here and there with the green leaves of trees. 

A mile or so from shore one of the Jamaicans 
loosened the sail, and as the boat increased her speed 
and dashed along over the yellowish- green waves, under 
the clear blue sky in a fresh breeze, the spirits of Mrs. 
Upton revived and Mr. Juniper was charmed. 

In the distance, apparently out at sea, two or three 
islands came in sight, and as the little row-boat danced 
lightly over the waves, Mr. Juniper could distinguish 
several steamers. In an hour they arrived under the 
bow of the Paclutcamac, the English steamship that 
was to carry them to Callao. She was anchored near 
one of the islands, and on either side ol her was a long 
heavy barge from which boxes, bales, and barrels were 
being hoisted by a noisy steam-derrick and chain into 
the hold of the steamer. 

The swell of the yellow sea made the little boat bob 
up and down like a cork, as the perspiring negroes 
paddled her to the ladder extending up the black side 
of the steamer. It was the work of a few minutes to 
reach the deck, secure the luggage, and once more to 
find the state-rooms, and to settle down into the routine 
of life at sea. 

There was a peculiar atmosphere noticeable as soon 
as Mr. Juniper had passed over the steamer’s side. 
She had fewer passengers than the Ocean Queen, and 
the officers and servants had a foreign look, and when 
they spoke, they all seemed to have a broad Irish or 
Scotch accent. They trolled their r’s and broadened 
their a’s, and although Mr. Juniper was compelled to 
admit that it was still the English language they used, 
it was surely English with a brogue, as all foreigners 
speak it, and not at all like the clear-cut, straight- 
forward English spoken in Oshkosh. 

The same difference extended to the food. There 
was an abundance of roast beef, mutton, bread and 
butter, ham, potatoes, tea and coflbe, canned fruits, and 


138 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


bananas, with an occasional plum-pudding. Every- 
thing on the table was good but plain. There was no 
pie or pastry, no sweet potatoes, no cake or griddle- 
cakes, but nearly all the passengers used wine or beer 
or porter, even for breakfast. 

About noon the next day, the stearn-tug came out 
from Panama, towing two launches loaded with cargo, 
and bringing several passengers. Dr. Braddon was 
the only one among them whose face was familiar, and 
]\fr. Juniper’s heart was gladdened to see hin], for in 
the midst of so much tliat was new and strange the 
sight of one acquaintance was deeply gratifying. 

Dr. Braddon had already come uncler the influence 
of his new surroundings. His Tnoustache had been 
waxed and tlie ends were curled upwards, St)anish 
fashion, completely changing the expression of his face. 
He wore a new white Panama hat, and instead of a 
cigar be was smoking a cigarette, and when that was 
smoked, he spent nearly ten minutes in trying to roll 
another one. 

“ Where did you peot)le go ? ” he asked, as he rushed 
on deck and eagerly saluted Mr. and Mrs. Upton and 
Mr. Juniper. 

“ I called to see you at the hotel, but Mr. Shiner 
said you had gone to San Francisco. That gentleman 
that met me at the station was Dr. Eobinson, a class- 
mate of mine. He’s a dentista in Panama and he’s 
making lots of dinero. Have a cigarillo, Mr. Upton? 
Mr. Juniper, you no fttruc, no ?” 

While Dr. Braddon was rolling the yellow paper 
around the tobacco for his next cigarette, he described 
with good-natured volubility his meeting with his 
friend Dr. Eobinson, and his call at the doctor’s office, 
his dinner at the club, the Englishmen he had met 
there, the visit to the Cliinese store, the old cathedral, 
the market, the American consul, and the prison of 
Chiriqui. 

By this time the party had been seated on the shady 


DOWN THE COAST 


139 


side of the steamer, in sight of the men unloading the 
launch. Dr. Braddon went to his cabin to look after 
his luggage, and on his return started to roll another 
cigarette. 

“Panama is a funny old place,” said he to Mrs. 
Upton. “ I could stay there a month and find some- 
thing interesting every day.” 

Mrs. Upton looked crestfallen. 

“ Did you see the old city ? ” asked the Doctor. 

“ I did not see anything but the Grand Hotel,” said 
Mrs. Upton, “ and I never want to see it again.” 

“ The old city is where Panama was first built, three 
miles away on the coast farther east. It was com- 
pletely destroyed by the Buccaneers more than two 
hundred years ago ; and then there’s the old fort the 
Spaniards built to protect the city, with the sea-wall 
and the prison and the little toy-soldiers. Why, it’s 
as good as a museum any day.” 

“I did not see anything very attractive in Panama,” 
said Mrs. Upton. 

Story of Pedro and Angelica. 

“ I am sure you would have been delighted with the 
Chiriqui prison,” the Doctor continued. “ Outside, it 
is a great fort, built on the edge of the sea, with a 
parapet and promenade on the top, and at high tide 
the sea completely covers the lower part of it. Inside, 
it is a fort, with the old cannon falling to pieces on the 
decayed mountings, and part of it is used for a prison. 
Soldiers are quartered in the citadel, those little boyish- 
looking fellows, carrying rilles as long as themselves. 
I would hate to be a prisoner there. The cells are low 
and damp, and a man must suffer the torments of the 
damned to find himself shut up in such a place with 
the light of day barred out, and the noise of the sea 
rolling over him. 

“ They have an interesting little love-story connected 


140 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


with the old prison, but it made me shudder when I 
heard it. Long years ago, under the Spanish dominion, 
a rich old hidalgo in Panama had a lovely daughter. 
She grew up in the seclusion of her own home, cared 
for by her mother, and her education looked after by 
the nuns in the convent. She had the lustrous dark 
eyes and black hair of the Spanish senorila, and, as the 
girl budded into the woman, she gave promise of match- 
less beauty. She had many admirers, but her father 
had promised her hand in marriage to one of the officers 
in the garrison, a gallant colonel from Catalonia. One 
day her mother made known to the young girl the 
disposition her father had in store for her, but the 
charming Angelica received the announcement with 
an outburst of tears, and threatened resistance to the 
parental command. That night in the garden the 
maiden met a young man who was discovered by the 
nurse set to watch them. By the moonlight the 
domestic could see his face, and he proved to be a 
handsome young student who was studying for the 
priesthood. The next day a file of red-capped soldiers 
marched to the roh’gio and arrested the young clerigo on 
a charge of cons})iring against the Government, and that 
night he slept on the stone fioor of the Chiriqui prison. 
The maiden mourned his absence for a fortnight, when 
Marie, a sweet, mild- faced Sister of Charity, entered the 
garden gate and handed her a note from Pedro, telling 
her of his imprisonment. Woman’s wit was equal to 
the emergency. In the disguise of a French Sister of. 
Charity she went the next day with Sister IMarie to 
take medicine and jelly to the sick prisoners in Chiriqui. 
In a few minutes of stolen whispering with her lover, 
he told her that he had found an old unused drain 
leading into the sea from the passage near his cell. 
If he had a small chisel or bar of iron, he could loosen 
the stones and make his way out at low tide, and then 
he would join her, and they would fly together and be 
happy. The demure nun who passed the armed guard 


DOWN THE COAST 


I4I 

at the gates the next day carried under her long white 
apron a small crowbar, and then for a day or two she 
remained at liome. Nothing was heard of Tedro, and 
on the third day the two nuns again visited the prison, 
only to find that the young man had disappeared. The 
doors were locked and barred as usual, but he was 
missing. The guard was indifferent, and muttered 
something about El Diahlo when Sister Marie inquired 
about the prisoner. Angelica was broken-hearted. At 
her request, Sister Marie accompanied her to the 
parapet, where they closely scanned t'fie sea, in the 
hope that Pedro might be concealed in some of the 
small boats in the bay. Wearily she watched the sea, 
but no Pedro gladdened her sight. It was low tide, 
and suddenly, as she looked down into the sea, she 
caught sight of the white face of her dead lover, with 
his open eyes staring into the sky above. He had been 
caught in the drain as he tried to escape, and when the 
tide arose he was drowned. With a shriek that blanched 
the black hair of sweet Sister Marie, Angelica threw 
herself from the parapet, and when they picked up 
her lifeless form, one liand was clasped in that of poor 
Pedro ; and now every night as the stars begin to appear 
in the heavens, the soldier on guard at the Chiriqui 
prison keeps a look-out for the sad figure of a Sister of 
Charity that appears for a few minutes on the parapet 
and looks wistfully out to sea.” 

It is most extraordinary. Dr. Braddon,” said Mrs. 
Upton. “I wish I had stopped to see the prison.” 

The rattle of the chain and the noise of the derrick 
continued all the afternoon, as the cargo was hoisted 
into the ship. 

In the distance, near another island, Mr. Juniper 
could see the American flag floating from the California 
steamers, which were taking on cargo and passengers 
and getting ready for a voyage up the coast. 

The next day the Pachacamac discharged her last 
launch, took leave of the officials on the steam- tug, 


142 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


lifted her anchor, and leisurely got under way. The 
islands slowly faded out of sight, the yellow water of 
the Bay of Panama gave place to the blue green of the 
Pacific, the steady thump, thump, of tlie machinery 
furnished an incessant accompaniment, tlie servants 
hurried around to prepare the dinner, and the pas- 
sengers settled themselves in steamer-cliairs on deck or 
in their cabins, and another voyage of fifteen hundred 
miles was begun. 

A new set of passengers appeared at the table. There 
were English and French, and many South Americans. 
Spanish seemed to be spoken quite commonly, and the 
bill of fare at dinner was in Spanish. One or two 
priests were at the taldes, wearing long black robes. 
I'he last vestiges of American life were disappearing, 
and Mr. Juniper began to realise tliat he was getting 
into foreign customs and among foreigners. He still 
had the company of the Uptons, who were familiar 
with the coast, and of Ur. Braddon, who seemed to have 
absorbed an astonishing amount of practical knowledge, 
including quite a smattering of Spanish words, during 
his stay of little more than twenty-four hours at Panama. 

Two xlmericans who had come down the coast from 
San Francisco interested ]\Ir. Juniper. They were the 
Bev. IMr. Garrison and wife, missionaries, on their way 
to Chili. Mr. Garrison was a young student, who had 
just completed his studies in the seminary, and his 
wife had been a teacher. Both were intelligent, good- 
natured people, and neither had ever before been five 
hundred miles away from home. With the natural 
freedom and lack of restraint that characterises Ameri- 
can young people, Mr. Juniper, Di-. Braddon, and the 
Garrisons soon became on terms of intimacy, and the 
Uptons were as friendly with the Garrisons as with 
any one on the ship. 

For three days and nights the old steamer Pacha- 
cam a r puffed wi li a good deal of noise, the paddle 
wheels splashed, and the passengers looked in vain for 


DOWN THE COAST 


143 


land. Mr. Juniper could not entirely conquer the sen^ 
sation of novelty when he found himself at sea and 
land nowhere in sight. The air was biaciug and cool, 
despite the fact that the ship was very near the equator. 

In his berth at night Mr. Juniper could hear loud 
voices oil deck, the engines stopped and then started 
again, and moved slowly, and finally stopped, and all 
was still, and in the morning he found the Pachacamac 
fuichored in the middle of a mighty river, with the 
city of Guayaquil near at hand. Scores of row-boats 
surrounded the steamer. Bare-headed and bare-footed 
negroes clamoured for a customer to take the ride to 
the shore. Huckstei s patrolled the steamer’s deck, try- 
ing to sell Panama hats, monkeys, parrots, hammocks, 
and fruit. Anotlier noisy little steam-tug brought two 
or three launches alongside, and part of the day was 
spent in unloading cargo from the steamer, and then 
in the afternoon the turn of the tide swung the old 
ship’s prow around in the opposite direction, and 
soon after her anchor was taken up the wheels again 
revolved, and she moved rapidly down-stream, with 
the low, level land of Ecuador on either side, covered 
with green and thick with tropical vegetation. 

Mr. Juniper found Mr. Garrison in a steamer-chair 
on the forward deck studying a Spanish grammar. A 
mutual confidence resulted in an interchange of experi- 
ences as the afternoon wore away. ]\Ir. Garrison was 
born in Ohio, where he had worked his wny through 
college by teaching. He had taken the honours of his 
class when he finished his course at the age of twenty- 
two, had spent a year or two as a professor in the college, 
and then graduated at the seminaiy. As soon as he 
was ordained he had married, and started for South 
America by way of San Francisco. He expected to 
teach in an English school and to preacli, but looked 
forward to no astonishing degree of success. The pay 
promised him by the school for his services and those 
of his wife was not large, and the difficulty of accom- 


144 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


plishing much in religious work among a people who 
spoke a different language did not make him feel very 
confident. However, he consoled himself that the ex- 
perience in the way of travel and contact with people 
in a foreign land would always figure as part of the 
assets from his three years’ term of service. First, he 
would master the language, which he did not believe 
would be difficult, as it was so much like the Latin, and 
then he hoped to have time to carry on his studies for 
the degree of Doctor of Philosophy, which he coveted, 
as a necessary part of his equipment for the work of 
teaching. Mrs. Garrison was to take charge of the girls’ 
school, with special work in teaching deportment and 
physical training. 

Mr. Juniper and Dr. Braddon, with Mr. and Mrs. 
Upton and Mr. and Mrs. Garrison, had been seated to- 
gether at the dinner- table. Neither Mr. Juniper nor 
the Garrisons used wine, but Dr. Braddon had already 
adopted the custom of his neighbours, Mr. and iMrs. 
Upton, and indulged in claret at breakfast and dinner. 
It was plain tliat the Ohio clergyman was deeply 
shocked at what he considered the gross impropi-iety 
of Dr. Braddon’s conduct. Indeed, Mr. Garrison had 
already expressed to Mr. Juniper something of the 
liorror and indignation he felt at the reckless dissipa- 
tion which he saw going on around him every day. 

]\Irs. Garrison was frequently absent from the table. 
She was suffering from sea-sickness, Mr. Garrison said. 
On one or two occasions, Mr. Juniper had noticed some- 
thing peculiar in the manner in which she held her 
knife and fork, and closer observation discovered the 
fact that her husband shared the habit with her. The 
knife was held firmly clasped as if for the purpose of 
carving, with the forefinger at the back of the blade. 
The fork was also solidly grasped with the end of the 
handle extending into the air through the thumb and 
forefinger, and the food was carried to the mouth on the 
flat side of the knife. As Mrs. Garrison was a teacher 


DOWN THE COAST 


145 


of deportment, it occurred to Mr. Juniper that the 
system taught in Ohio contained some modifications 
which had been overlooked in Oshkosh. 

Mr. and Mrs. Garrison invariably spoke in a loud, 
honest, sincere tone of voice, that could be easily heard 
in any part of the dining-room, or on any part of the 
deck, unless the steamer’s whistle was blowing. This 
produced on the part of their hearers a feeling of con- 
fidence in their integrity and the purity of their motives, 
but, somehow, to ]\Ir. Juniper it did not seem quite so 
pleasant as the voice of Mrs. Upton, which was low and 
cooing, like the note of a dove. He had also noticed 
that nearly all the English, both men and women, spoke 
in a soft undertone, as if anxious not to disturb any one 
else, and, while this was a little peculiar, the more he 
heard it the better he liked it. 

Mrs. Garrison seemed to be the only one who was 
seasick. The Pacific had no waves, but the ceaseless 
roll of the water caused the steamer to rock slightly. 
As the lady seemed particularly fond of strong coffee, 
cheese, boiled ham, cold tongue, plum-pudding, and other 
indigestible articles of food, which the other passengers 
partook of only slightly, it was evident that her sea- 
sickness inevitably followed an over-indulgence at the 
table. 

The process of thought in the mind of Mr. Juniper 
was in the direction of a query whether an absti- 
nence from wine at the table justified an excessive use 
of other kinds of food, and if somewhere between the 
two extremes the true course did not lie. 

In a day or two, the Pachacamac cast anchor in the sea 
off Paita, the first port in Peru. A rude village of mud 
huts, with a custom-house and a market-place, lay on 
the coast, with a high mountainous country immediately 
back of it, and ships anchored in the sea without a dock 
or wharf of any kind. All cargo had to be transferred 
to open launches, which were rowed to shore by a crowd 
of bare-footed natives. One of these launches coming 

K 


146 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


from shore with eight or ten oars on a side reminded 
Mr. Juniper of the pictures of a Eoman galley he had 
seen in Goldsmith’s History. It seemed a desolate spot 
for a city, as there was no sign of the slightest vegeta- 
tion, nothing but dry, dusty, sandy soil, as far as the 
eye could reach. He had now entered the rainless 
region of the Pacific coast. 

Then followed three or four days of steady steaming 
to the south and south-east, a few miles from the coast- 
line, with the dull dry mountains in the distance, and 
a brown barren shore in the foreground, where the 
incessant swell of the Pacific dashed against the rocks 
with such force that it threw high into the air a 
column of water often one hundred feet above the sea. 
Every afternoon great fiocks of pelicans continually 
passed the ship. Mr. Upton said that it was a well- 
known fact that these birds would never fly alongside a 
ship or cross her stern. For some unknown reason, they 
insisted upon flying athwart the steamer’s bow, and, as 
they moved slowly and leisurely in single file, like the 
figures on a Japanese screen, flapping their extending 
wings as if ready to drop into the sea with exhaustion, 
they were compelled sometimes to increase their speed. 
Their immense bills made these birds resemble the pic- 
tures of the stork, used so much in decoration. The 
cause of their deliberate movements was the fact that 
the birds had been on a fishing excursion, and the long 
pouch that each one carried under his bill was filled 
with the prey he had captured, and was carrying to his 
nest, where it would be digested at leisure. 

Occasionally a drove of porpoises rose in the sea near 
the ship. The fat awkward animals jumped entirely out 
of the water in their gambols, and while in the air each 
gave vent to an audible grunt, very much like the sound 
made by a hog. 

But in the matter of marine life, the voyage, both on 
the Atlantic and Pacific, had been disappointing. Mr. 
J uniper had read of the abundance of strange fishes and 


DOWN THE COAST 


14; 

aquatic monsters always seen in the seas of the tropics, 
and he could remember stories of the vast flocks of birds 
hovering over the coast, and always seen in the waters 
of the equatorial regions. The Pacific coast was barren, 
and the waters were evidently almost as devoid of life 
as tlie land. One long dead line of coast with a few 
pelicans, without a tree or shrub in sight, was all that 
could be seen day after day as the steamer slowly 
ploughed her way southward. 

Inexpressil)ly lonely and dreary the Pacific always 
appeared. From Panama to Callao, not a ship or 
steamer had been seen, except at Guayaquil and Paita. 
When land was not in sight, there was nothing but a 
desolate expanse of greenish-blue water, which moved 
with an uneasy, supernatural moaning motion, as if it 
were a great evil spirit, always unhappy and never at 
rest. At night especially, the view of the sea was not 
at all cheerful when the moon was not shining, and the 
dim, uncertain, ghastly, gloaming light of the stars on 
the grim, restless sea always produced a sensation of 
home-sickness, and the traveller was glad to seek the 
retirement of his cabin or the company of his friends, 
and shut out the unwelcome sight and sound. 

The first sight of the Southern Cross caused a tre- 
mor of excitement to the Americans when Mr. Upton 
pointed it out one evening on the deck. Shining in 
the south with a clear soft radiance, made more bril- 
liant by contrast with the dense black of the Coal-Heap 
beneath it, the Cross was thenceforth a familiar sight. 
The comparative insignificance of one of the four stars 
which made up the Cross rather weakened the figure, 
and at first the False Cross, in another part of the 
heavens, was often mistaken for it ; but a little prac- 
tice familiarised the eye with the difference between 
the two, although the real Cross itself was rather dis- 
appointing, for there were many constellations which 
shone with a stronger light. All the stars seemed 
brighter than in the north. The North Star and the 


48 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Dipper had disappeared in the Atlantic, and many of 
the constellations were entirely new, although Jupiter, 
Venus, and ]\Iars could be recognised, yet in a much 
higher position than in the north. 

When the moon appeared, as it finally did, it seemed 
to be almost directly overhead. Up among the stars it 
floated, so high and clear that the crescent appeared to 
be only an enlarged star shining in the zenith. 

“ I wish you could have seen the Paita moon,” said 
Mr. Upton, “for Paita has a moon of its own.” 

“ It is part of Peru in other respects, is it not ? ” 
asked Mr. Garrison, smiling. 

“The belief is general in Peru,” said Mr. Upton, 
“ that the moon at Paita is twice as large as it is any- 
where else in the world. I have seen it there, and I 
must say it looks very large, certainly much larger, 
than it is in Callao. Whether it is the imagination 
influenced by the tradition, or the effect of the clear, dry 
atmosphere, I cannot tell, but the fact remains, what- 
ever may be the true explanation.” 

“ How fortunate are the lovers in Paita ! ” said ^Irs. 
Garrison, “ Think of having double the moonlight and 
twice as much promenading after the sun goes down ! ” 

“ From what I saw of Paita,” said Mr. Juniper, “ any 
one who would live there must be influenced by the 
moon.” 

“But, Algernon,” asked Mrs. Upton gently, “isn’t 
there some explanation of the phenomenon, some theory 
of refraction of light, or is it only a superstition ? ” 

Legend of the Paita Moon. 

“ When I was at Paita last year,” said Mr. Upton, 
glancing slyly at his wife, “ T met one of the charming 
senoritas of the country, who explained to me the 
mystery of the moon at Paita. It is rather a long 
story, but if you don’t mind, I will tell you how it 
came about. 


DOWN THE COAST 


149 


‘‘ In the interior of Peru there are rich valleys that 
are watered by the rivers ( omiiig down from the per- 
petual snows of the mighty Andes. Pain falls only 
once in six or seven years, but the farms are fertilised 
by streams carried in the acequiiu tliat tap the river 
and carry the water for many miles tlirough the valleys. 
The land is covered with a thick growth of the aUjor- 
roho, a tree whose trunk is five or six inches thick, and 
as hard as the lignum vitai. These trees are cut down, 
the trunks and branches are left three or four months 
in tlie tropical sun to dry, and then burned. Water is 
then let in from the accquia for a day or two. AYlien 
the land is partially dry, a crop of rice is scattered 
broadcast, and then teams of bullocks harrow it among 
the stumps with the branches of a tree, and in a few 
days a thick crop of rice springs up. In Ajnil or l\Iay 
it is ready to liarvest, and a crowd of Saml)os aie 
turned in, each provided with a sickle, and the rice is 
cut in handfuls and left in the sun to dry. It s after- 
wards stacked for a few weeks to cine and then to 
thresh it, the rice-straw is scattered on the ground in 
small enclosures, and all the horses on the farm are 
turned in to tread on it. After the animals have been 
tramping on it long enough, the rough straw is picked 
up and removed, and the rice is winnowed by throwing 
it into tlie air with shovels. The wind blows ofi’ the 
chaff, and the grains of rice are put up in sacks and 
shipped on the backs of mules and donkeys to the 
coast, where it finds a market. 

“ During the last year of the viceroys tliere lived on 
one of these rice farms an old haccndado named Don 
Ca3sar Gutierrez. His hacicndo was more than ten 
leagues in length, and he was the richest man in 
Northern Peru. He had a family of twelve children, 
and the third one was a beautiful daughter, named 
Filomena. Now, Doha Filomena had a lover in Lima, 
young Sanchez, who was attached to the court of the 
Viceroy. The gentle Filomena had been educated in 


ISO THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 

the convent of the mothers in Lima, and when she was 
at the house of her aunt, wlio was a relative of the 
Viceroy, she had met Sehor Sanchez. The young man 
was of a good Castilian family, and they had fallen in 
love at first sight. Don Arturo, for that was his name, 
had been unable to conceal the passion which burned 
in his bosom, and had secretly declared his love to the 
damsel, but had not made known his purpose to the 
aunt, when the sudden sailing of a vessel for the port 
of Paita, while he was absent at Pisco, necessitated her 
hasty departure with her uncle for her home in the north. 

“When she reached the old house among the rice-fields, 
after four days’ journey on a donkey from Paita, the 
charming Filomena was disconsolate, and sighed day and 
night for the busy streets and quiet churches of Lima. 

“ Every day she rode her white lurro to the little 
adobe church in the village, and said her prayers before 
the figure of Our Lady of Miracles, and when old Father 
Tomaso, the good padre, came to say mass, which he 
did twice a month, the most devout attendant and the 
first one at confession was the demure sehorita who had 
been so long absent at Lima. 

“ The burden of her prayers before the gentle face of 
Our Lady was that she might see her lover, and that 
the love she bore him might be blessed. Slie wanted 
to tell good Father Tomaso, but as it was no sin. she 
did not dare to take him into her conscience. If Our 
Lady could hear the sweet confessions poured into her 
ear by the fair Filomena, I actually believe the prayers 
must have been answered. 

“ And her piety did not end in saying her prayers 
and going to misa and confession. A new altar-cloth 
of finest linen took the place of the old one that was 
soiled with the dust and the rough hands of the cholas 
who dressed the church, and Our Lady appeared one 
morning in a fine new black velvet robe, with a head- 
dress of beautiful lace, like that made by the mothers 
of San Pedro; and who could perform these acts of 


DOWN THE COAST 


ISI 

Christian benevolence but the good seilorita, who came 
every day with her prayer-book ? And then the paper 
flowers, that had grown dingy and discoloured, were 
all removed from the altar, and four stands of bright 
red and white roses, from the same dexterous hand, 
made the little church seem fresh and inviting. 

“ Well, one morning in October something happened. 
The pious Filomena was riding home from church, at- 
tended, as she always was, by her old chola nurse, who 
rode behind her on a brown donkey. Their pathway 
led along the edge of a field that was being prepared for 
the rice. The water had been let in from the aceqida two 
or three days before, and the ground was still damp, and 
the men were at work with the bullocks on the farther 
side. Beyond the rice-field was a thick growth of algor- 
robos, and the pathway for the donkeys wound in and 
out among the trees. Just as they had crossed the 
watered field, Filomena, whose eyes were cast down and 
her thoughts absorbed in her devotions, was alarmed 
by the sudden jumping of her white burro, Filomena 
looked up, and there, under the branches of an algor- 
robo, stood the beautiful figure of Our Lady, whom she 
had left half an hour before in the little church in the 
village. Her quick eye had taken in the sweet face of 
the saint, the soft flaxen curls under the beautiful lace, 
which she herself had learned to make from the good 
Mother Josefina in San Pedro, besides the rich robe of 
velvet, spangled with silver stars, whose construction 
had cost her so many hours of labour with her needle. 
Before she realised what she was doing, Filomena had 
jumped from her burro, and thrown herself upon her 
knees, where, after she had made the sign of the cross, 
with her rosary pressed to her lips, she began her Ave 
Maria. With a gentle motion of the hand, the saint 
signalled her to stop, and then spoke in the softest and 
sweetest voice these words : — 

/“My child, I have heard your prayers, and your 
gentle piety has found favour in my eyes. I love you, 


152 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


and your life shall be made liappy. ( xo immediately to 
Paita. The moon will be a sign of my love for you. 
Do not forget me, for 1 shall always watch over you.’ 

“ AYhile she gazed in astonishment at the lovely face 
of the saint, the bark of the algorroho tree appeared 
where the velvet robe had been, and then the white 
lace and the curls disappeared, and in an instant the 
figure had actually faded away. Filornena looked 
around, but she could see only old Marta, the nurse, 
on her knees, with her hands over her face, and the 
two hurros nibbling the leaves of the algorroho. 

“ After a few minutes in prayer, Filornena mounted 
her hnrro and resumed her ride homewards. She was 
lost in thought, but her mind had a sweet contentment 
it had never known before. 

“When she reached the old house among the rice- 
fields, she found everything excited. A messenger had 
just arrived from the comisionista at i’aita with news that 
the last lot of fifty sacks of rice sent over by donkeys 
were all short weight, and there was trouble about it, 
and her father was obliged to start at once for the pur- 
pose of clearing it up. Breakfast was being hurried, 
the best mule was saddled, and even the dogs seemed 
to understand that something was the matter, for they 
frisked around her white hiuTo, and played with each 
other in an outburst of canine happiness. 

“ Without saying a word about what she had seen 
under the algorroho tree, Filornena begged permission to 
accompany her father. Don Caesar was a gruff' man gene- 
rally with his children, but as Dona Filornena had seemed 
despondent since her return from Lima, at the mother’s 
solicitation he consented, and with Alejandro, the trusty 
mozo, they started as soon as breakfast was finished. 

“ That night, and every night until they reached 
Paita, the moonlight v-as as bright as day. The moon 
seemed double the usual size, and by its light Filornena 
could eas ly read the pages of her prayer-book before she 
went to sleep in the jposada where they lodged, 


DOWN THE COAST 


153 

“When they reached Paita on the fourth clay, a 
schooner had just mi rived from Callao, and great was 
Filoniena’s surprise to meet Dt n Arturo, who had come 
from Lima on the first vessel after her departure. He 
brought with him an autograph letter from His High- 
ness th(^ Viceroy, and another from Dona Marguerita, 
the kind aunt in Lima, both addressed to Don Ca3sar 
Gutierrez, and commending the young cabellero in the 
highest terms. Don Arturo lost no time in pressing his 
suit upon the father, and after a short interview with 
Dona Filomena, the old hacendado gave his consent, and 
the young people were betrothed. 

“ The next day, the business about the rice having 
been arranged, the whole party started for the hacienda, 
wLere Don Arturo spent a delightful week, making the 
acquaintance of the senora madre and the brothers and 
sisters of Filomena, and then returned to his duties at 
Lima. 

“At the end of the next pascua, the good Father 
Tomaso celebrated the sacrament of marriage in the little 
adobe church, and the gallant Don Arturo returned to 
Lima with his beautiful bride. 

“ The calm face of Our Lady still looks out upon the 
visitor at the church of San Pedro in Lima, and the 
descendants of Dona Filomena to this day keep it always 
fresh with soft lace and a rich velvet robe, while the 
traveller at Paita continues to look at the brilliant moon, 
which always shines with redoubled brilliancy. 

“ Dona Filomena died at the good old age of eighty- 
five, surrounded by her family of ten dutiful daughters, 
and her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren 
are yet among the first families of Lima, and they keep 
in pious remembrance the name of their good ancestor.” 

“ I think that is perfectly lovely, Mr. Upton,” said 
Mrs. Garrison, “ and I want to thank you for it.” 

All the light in the sky above had disappeared. 
Neither moon nor stars were to be seen ; nothing but 
the dull leaden clouds of a Peruvian winter. 


CHAPTER XVI 

FIGHTING FOR A FOOT^HOLD 

In the distance could be seen the masts of hundreds 
of vessels, resembling a forest bereft of leaves, and 
the passengers gathered on the forward deck to get 
the first view of Callao. In an hour or so, the old 
steamer puffed lazily along in sight of the harbour. 
To the right towered aloft the island of San Lorenzo, 
which formed a breakwater to keep off the swell of the 
Pacific, leaving the broad bay as quiet as an inland 
lake, and giving shelter to a mighty fleet. The flags 
of England, Germany, Prance, Spain, and the United 
States floated from the shipping, and there appeared a 
certain uniformity in the vessels. As the old steamer 
made her way towards the harbour, it was quite per- 
ceptible the odour of ammonia from the ships lying at 
anchor, for many of them were laden with guano from 
the Chincha Islands. 

With slackened speed, the Pachacamac worked her 
way along the bay. The boatswain took his place at 
the bow with the lead, and when his soundings in- 
dicated a certain number of fathoms, the first officer 
gave the order to the man at the steam-winch, and the 
big anchor dropped into the blue water, carrying after 
it the heavy iron chain with a loud rattling noise until 
it touched bottom, and the voyage was ended. 

A small boat flying the I’eruvian flag and rowed by 
ten sailors in white suits, with two or three officials in 
blue and gold uniforms, put out from shore, and the 
captain of the port and the health officer mounted 
154 


FIGHTING FOR A FOOT-HOLD 


155 


the companion-way. The passengers were collected in 
the dining-room to be inspected by the doctor, and a 
crowd of small boats surrounded the steamer at a 
respectful distance, waiting until she had been officially 
received. 

When the inspection was ended, the passengers 
began to leave, and the small boats did a thriving 
trade. Trunks and boxes were let down by ropes into 
the boats, and in half an hour the ship was deserted. 
Mr. Juniper said good-bye to the Uptons, whom he 
expected to meet soon again in Callao, and also to Dr. 
Braddon and Mr. and ^Irs. Garrison, who were to con- 
tinue the journey down the coast to Valparaiso. 

A small boat rowed by two coloured men carried 
him with his trunk and bag to the shore, and the men 
removed the luggage to the station. The town looked 
somewhat weather-beaten, but crowds of men were on 
the streets, the shops appeared full of people, and there 
was a general air of prosperity in everything visible. 
The signs on the shops were in English and Spanish, 
and he heard English spoken in the streets, principally 
among the sailors. 

Mr. Upton had furnished him with sufficient Peru- 
vian money to buy his ticket for Lima, and he took 
his seat in the cars. The nine miles of distance was 
traversed in half an hour, and he found himself in 
Lima, and soon after at the Hotel Victoria, whose 
principal attraction was that its proprietor spoke 
English. 

It was a dull, disagreeable winter day. His first 
view of the famous City of the Kings was not at all 
attractive. A thick mist was falling, and the air was 
cold and clammy. The irnrrow side-walks, made of 
rough flag-stones, were slippery and wet. Narrow 
streets, scarcely wide enough for three carriages to 
pass at once, were paved with uneven, irregularly 
shaped stones, and in the middle of each was an open 
sewer, through which ran the slops and filth from the 


156 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


houses. Flocks of ugly black buzzards, each as large 
as a goose, hopped with awkward jumps along the edge 
of the trench, fighting among themselves for the pieces 
of carrion and dead rats or putrefying refuse that 
floated along on the slimy current, over the stones 
that were green with decomposing sewage, and when a 
pedestrian or a carriage crossed the foul stream on the 
little bridge built here and there over the current and 
frightened them away, these fiendish scavengers rose 
in a dark cloud and settled on the roof of the nearest 
house or building, where they craned tlieir crooked 
necks and peered searchingly with their hard bead- 
like eyes at the intruder ; and when the field was clear, 
trooped back again, one by one, to the ditch, to begin 
once more their unclean work. 

The Plaza was a large open square. On one side 
was the cathedral, on the other the palace, a straggling 
one-storey building, covering a whole block, with an 
open court in the middle, where soldiers paraded, and 
where horses and donkeys were kept. Tlie other sides 
of the Plaza had broad side-walks of rough, uneven 
stone, and the second storey of the buildings extended 
to the outer edge of the side-walk, making a covered 
arcade in front of the principal shops. The houses had 
painted fronts in imitation of marble, and the windows 
were barred with iron railings in fantastic designs, and 
the second storey was usually provided with a balcony, 
where the inmates could look downupon the street below. 

Mr. Juniper’s walk around the city did not make it 
appear more cheerful to him. Everything he saw in- 
tensified the feeling that he was in a foreign land. 
The people he met seemed to be a strange mixture. 
There were elegantly dressed men and women with 
beggars showing the most horrible poverty ; people with 
the fairest complexion and iVfricans as dark as coal, 
with all imaginable shades of colour between : Indians 
in sandals wearing ponchos, the women carrying their 
papooses strajup d I'chiiol ]:c had seen them in the 


FIGHTING FOR A FOOT-HOLD 


157 


woods of Wisconsin ; and Chinese with the long queue, 
and others carrying two baskets, each suspended from 
the end of a pole swung over the shoulder, like those 
he had seen in pictures of Chinese scenes ; with priests 
and nuns, military officers and soldiers, foreign sailors, 
and men who looked like Americans, all made up a 
motley crowd. 

Without a single acquaintance, and surrounded by 
people of a different nationality thousands of miles 
from home, Mr. Juniper was beginning to feel the 
pangs of home-sickness. 

He carried in his^ pocket the letter given him by Miss 
Appleton introducing him to her cousin, ]\lr. Chandler. 
No one at the hotel could tell him anything about Mr. 
Chandler. He was advised to inquire at the American 
Legation, where a list was kept of all Americans in Lima. 

After some difficulty and numerous questions, he 
found the Legation on a side-street, witli a large sign 
over the door portraying in vivid colours the well-known 
American eagle grasping in his talons a bunch of arrows. 

The Minister was seated at a big desk. ]\Ir. Juniper 
hesitated before passing into the presence of such an 
august personage, but the coloured attendant motioned 
the second time, and Mr. Juniper entered the room with 
his hat in his hand. 

The Minister waved him to a seat, and continued 
writing for a moment. At length he looked up, and 
Mr. Juniper stated his inquiry. 

Chandler ? I don’t know any such person. Is he 
an American ? ” 

‘‘Yes,” said Mr. Juniper; “he is from New Hamp- 
shire.” 

“ What is his business ? ” 

“ An engineer ; works for the Government, I believe.” 

“ Sure he is in Lima ? ” 

“ I saw a letter he wrote from here in March last.” 

The Minister opened a door in his desk, took out a 
thin blank book, and began looking it through. 


158 THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 

“ Chandler ? Frank Chandler, is it ? he asked, hold- 
ing his finger on an entry in the book. 

“ That is the one.” 

“ Oh, he is dead. Died at the Hotel Maury, May 1 5. 
I thought he wasn’t here.” 

“ Dead ? ” Mr. Juniper’s heart sank. “ What was 
the matter with him ? ” 

« Perniciosci. Sick twenty-four hours. AVell in the 
morning, fever in the afternoon, dead the next day, 
funeral the day after.” 

“ Where was he buried ? ” 

Eeally Mr. J uniper did not feel like carrying his in- 
quiries further, but duty to Miss Appleton required it. 

“ At Bell a vista. Left no directions about his pro- 
perty. Consul at Callao took charge of his things and 
notified the department. Eelative of yours ? ” 

“ No, but his cousin in Wisconsin is my best friend.” 

“ Better write him and tell him that Mr. Chandler’s 
gold watch, trunk, and all his clothes are in charge of 
the Consulate.” 

The IMinister spoke in a kind voice, and evidently 
sympathised with the young man when he saw how 
cruelly his abrupt announcement had wounded the 
feelings of his visitor. 

Mr. Juniper thanked the Minister and retired. As 
he went down the white marble stairs to the street, his 
feeling of loneliness seemed doubled. Now he certainly 
was alone. His hope of having a friend and adviser 
in Mr. Chandler was wiped out, and his sorrow was 
intensified at the thought of writing such sad news to 
the dear, kind Miss Appleton, who had been so good to 
him, and the pain his letter would give her. 

Then the necessity of obtaining some Peruvian money 
dawned on his mind as he walked down the street. 
On the arcade or portal, as the Lima people called it, 
he had seen a number of little shops where money was 
exchanged, and into one of these he made his way. 
The proprietor stood behind the counter, on which was 


FIGHTING FOR A FOOT-HOLD I 59 

a show-case containing a tempting array of gold coins, 
English sovereigns, American eagles and double eagles, 
and rows of paper money. He was a German J ew, a short 
fat man wearing spectacles, who spoke all languages. 

“ What is American money worth ? ” asked Mr. 
Juniper. 

“ Dot debends on vedder you vant to buy or sell.” 

“ I have a little I want to sell for Peruvian money.” 

“ I gif you forety cents.” 

As the rate of discount at Colon and Panama was 40 
per cent, Mr. Juniper accepted the offer. He counted 
out $100 in American greenbacks and laid them on the 
show-case.' The old man eyed the bills closely, counted 
them twice, and then handed out $40 in Peruvian gold 
and silver coins. ^Ir. Juniper’s jaw fell when he saw 
the amount, but as he had accepted the old man’s offer, 
he did not make known his misunderstanding. 

“ I vas padly shwindled on Yankee money last sum- 
mer,” said the Jew, pointing to a stack of soiled paper 
currency neatly piled up in one corner of the show-case. 
Mr. Juniper looked at it more closely and saw it was 
Confederate money. 

“ All last year ve bought both kinds, nordern money 
and suddern money, and sometimes one vas high and 
den de odder. Shust about de first of May a big tall 
feller he corned into my store, and he says — 

‘ Veil, Uncle, haf you heard de news ? ’ 

“ ‘ Vat’s de news ? ’ says I. 

“ ‘ De Confederates has taken Washington, and Abe 
Lincoln has run away, and Sheff Davies is in de Vite 
House.’ 

“ ' jMoses and Aaron,’ says I, ‘ den my greenbacks is no 
good.’ 

“ ‘ Dat is all de better for your Confederate money,’ 
says he, pointing to de odder pile. 

“ Wish I had more of it,’ says I. 

“Den he bulls out a bocket-book mit fife hundred 
tollars in de Confederate money, and I puys de whole 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


I 6o 

lot for feefty cents on de dollar. Next day de steamer 
from Panama priiigs de news dat de rebels is licked, and 
I lose mine two hundred and feefty tollars.” 

And then began for the young man a disagreeable 
struggle. The search for employment was embittered 
by the difficulty caused by his ignorance of the Spanish 
language. To walk the streets of a foreign city com- 
pletely ignorant of the words spoken around him, vainly 
searching for an opportunity to earn his living, and 
conscious that his little stock of money was wasting 
away day by day with no chance of replenishing it, was 
not a pleasant occupation. 

It is said that in great crises of history the events of 
centuries are compressed into a week. Surely, in those 
anxious days, the young man lived almost a lifetime of 
fear, tribulation, and suffering. 

Given a conscientious high-minded man, place him 
in the world without money and without the means of 
earning his daily bread, with* starvation staring him in 
the face, and no opportunity of helping himself, and the 
picture is a sorrowful one. When a man is willing to 
work and can get no work to do, and is about to suffer 
for the want of work, surely he is to be pitied. 

Naturally his applications were made to the Americans 
and English who could understand his language, but 
all the situations were filled. His sensitive disposition 
probably prevented such a presentation of his case as 
might have enlisted more sympathy in his behalf, but 
day after day he made the rounds among the offices, 
the few manufacturing establishments, and the business 
houses, wherever he could hear of an American or an 
Englishman, and everywhere he was refused, sometimes 
harshly, but generally with evident kindness. 

The last of his greenbacks were disposed of at forty- 
five cents, and the same day he removed from the Vic- 
toria Hotel to a small lodging-house kept by an Italian 
near the Palace, because it was cheaper. 

He still had untouched the envelope containing the 


FIGHTING FOR A FOOT-HOLD l6l 

money left him by Lars Johnson iii New York. He 
had counted it over many times, $125 of it there was, 
but he could not use it, for it did not belong to him. 
He had intended to send it back as soon as he could 
find out Larry’s address. 

The day came when he spent his last centave for his 
breakfast, and yet no work. For his dinner, he did not 
have the heart to use Larry’s money, but in his waist- 
coat pocket he had a small vial of homoeopathic pills, 
given him in Oshkosh by the good Miss Appleton. 
Half-a-dozen of these stayed the hunger that was 
gnawing his stomach. Never did sugar taste sweeter, 
and before dark half the bottle had been used. 

That night he tossed on the narrow bed in the dark 
room after he had blown out his candle, and it was 
half an hour before his hunger w’ould allow him to 
sleep. Then he dreamed he was in the Wolf Eiver 
pinery again, and Celia was there, and she made a dish 
of maple- wax for him. She wore her calico frock with 
the blue ribbons at her throat, and her cheeks sho\ved 
the delicate pink flush she had the day he saw her 
making the doughnuts. When she handed him the 
saucer of maple-wax, he was about to raise a spoonful 
of it to his lips, and then he aw^oke with a start, to find 
himself still in Peru with the awful load upon his mind, 
and he tossed again until daylight, when he arose and 
went out upon the street to walk up and down, and by 
walking to drown the terrible sensation within him. 

At last he began to consider the question of using 
some of Larry’s money. Of course Lars had given it 
to him, and expected him to use it, and he could not 
starve with the money in his pocket that would buy 
food. Lars had deserted him at the critical moment, 
and it was no more than right if he did use the money 
to keep himself from actual starvation. He had his 
watch and a trunk full of clothes, and if necessary he 
could probably sell the watch, and possibly he might 
sell some of his clothes ; but the watch was the one his 

L 


i 62 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


brother had when he was killed in the army, and the 
chain was made from his dear mother’s hair, and it 
showed the mark of the fatal bullet that had killed his 
brother. To sell it or to sell his clothes seemed so un- 
manly and cowardly, that he felt almost as if he would 
prefer to die rather than to do either. On the other 
hand, he felt that lofty sentiment and heroic resolutions 
were all very well to a man with a full stomach, but he 
had eaten nothing but the pills for tw'enty-four hours. 
He was young and vigorous, and all his life he had been 
blessed with a good appetite, and now the lack of food 
and the strange intoxication or derangement of his sys- 
tem produced by the homoeopathic medicine made him 
desperate. He walked from the Plaza to the Bolivar 
Monument in the Inquisition Square, and then to the 
Plaza again, and as he crossed to the Portal towards the 
bridge he came to a decision. He would use two dollars 
of Larry’s money and go and see the Uptons. 

He had intended to go and see Mr. and Mrs. Upton 
as soon as he had secured employment, which he had 
hoped would be very soon, but as day after day passed 
he felt too proud to caU on them. Now his pride was 
effectually burned out of him. In the desperation of 
his hunger, he decided to do what he ought to have 
done at first. 

A money-changer on the Portal gave him five pesetas, 
or one sol, for his two-dollar greenback. He really felt 
as if he was receiving stolen money as the Frenchman 
counted out the silver pieces and laid them one after 
another in a row on the glass. In a neighbouring tamho 
he secured a smoking hot dish of cazuela, a piece of 
lomito with fried potatoes, and a cup of coffee. Somehow 
the world seemed brighter to him at once, and he felt 
that his visit to Mr. Upton was exactly the right thing. 

At Callao in the afternoon it was an easy matter to 
find the Pacific Steam Navigation Company’s office, and 
in the office Mr. Upton was busily at work standing at 
a high desk. 


FIGHTING FOR A FOOT-HOLD 1 63 

“ You rascal ! Where have you kept yourself ? ” was 
Mr. Upton’s salutation as the young man entered the 
room. 

Mr. Juniper explained that he had been expecting to 
obtain a situation of some kind before coming to see 
Mr. Upton, and his efforts to find a place had occupied 
his time, so that it had been impossible to come. 

“ And here I have been holding a place for you for a 
week,'’ said Mr. Upton; “if you had not come to-day 
you would have lost it.” 

He then explained that one of the clerks in the office 
was going to England on a six months’ leave of absence, 
and Mr. Juniper could have the vacant position if he 
could do the work. The salary was $125 per month, 
the hours from nine in the morning until five in the 
afternoon, and although it was for only half a year, yet 
it was better than nothing. 

Mr. Juniper felt like embracing him on the spot. 
The preliminaries were soon arranged. He was to 
come to Callao at once and begin his duties in the 
office the next day. A short call at Mr. Upton’s resi- 
dence after office hours enabled him to see the lady, 
and thank her for her interest in him, for Mr. Upton 
had explained that it was his wife’s persistent ques- 
tioning, and her kind solicitation, that induced him to 
secure the place for Mr. Juniper. 

Mrs. Upton was pleased to see him, and her gentle 
brown eyes shone with a sisterly affection upon him as 
she urged him to dine with her husband and herself. 
To the young man, who had not seen a friendly coun- 
tenance or heard a word of sympathy for a month, the 
kindness of these two people melted him into a feeling 
that there was, after all, much real kindness in the 
world. 

He excused himself, however, and returned to Lima. 
His luggage was transferred to the station, and in a 
dingy lodging-house in Callao, over a ship-chandler’s 
shop, he secured a room. It was furnished with a bed 


164 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


and a cabinet for his clothes, a table with a small 
marble- top stand at the bedside, a washstand, and a 
few chairs. The floor was bare, except for a rug near 
the bed, and the door opened on the patio in the centre 
of the building. Near him, all around the patio, were 
other rooms, occupied mostly by young men like himself. 

In a restaurant or tambo a few doors distant he made 
arrangements for his meals. At half-past seven o’clock 
a cup of coOee was served with two or three slices of 
bread. This was the desayuno. At eleven o’clock came 
the breakfast, which consisted of cazuela, sanchochado, 
caldo, or some other soup, beefsteak, fried plantains, 
boiled rice, potatoes, bread without butter, eggs, and 
coffee. At the close of the day, generally between six 
and seven, the dinner was served. This consisted of 
soup, fish, roast beef or mutton, one or two kinds of 
vegetables, bread and coffee. Mr. Juniper had not yet 
fallen into the customs of the country sufliciently to 
take wine, but he was the only one in the dozen or 
more at the restaurant who refused it. It was said 
that the water was not good, and that the climate 
required the use of liquor, but he determined to get 
along without it. 


CHAPTEE XVII 
BUDS OF HOPE 

Callao had a population of about 30,000 people. The 
guano trade made it the busiest port on the Pacific 
south of San Francisco. Tliousands of ships came from 
the United States and Europe every year to load with 
guano ajb the Chincha Islands and other points on the 
coast, and the Peruvian law required each ship to enter 
at the Callao custom-house, receive a permit from the 
Government, and take on a Peruvian official before it 
could begin loading, and then, after the cargo was taken 
on, another visit was necessary to Callao in order to 
pay the last of the tolls at the custom-house and 
obtain the necessary clearance papers. The annual 
revenue to Peru from this source reached into millions 
of dollars. So abundant were the resources of the 
Government, that, instead of requiring taxes from the 
people for its support, it actually fed the people, like 
a cherishing mother, by a gigantic system of pensions, 
and the distribution of official patronage in the way of 
appointments to Government positions. Fortunes were 
made by Peruvians and by foreigners domiciled in Peru 
in the purchase and sale of the guano, and the abun- 
dance of money in the country produced a reign of 
extravagance and luxurious living scarcely paralleled 
in America. The old adobe houses in Lima were en- 
larged and beautified, and adorned with the richest 
furnishings from Paris and the centres of fashionable 
life in the Old World. People who inhabit the tropical 
and semi-tropical countries understand best how to 
16s 


i66 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


arrange the home and the surroundings of every-day 
life so as to produce the greatest degree of ease and 
sensual enjoyment, and the Italian from Home and 
Venice, the Spaniard from Barcelona, Cadiz, and 
Seville, the Portuguese from Ilsbon and Oporto, and 
the Frenchman from Marseilles and Lyons, found in 
Peru a climate fanned by more delicious breezes, and 
a temperature softer and more equable, than those of 
Southern Spain or the Eiviera ; and the European was 
not long in teaching the wealthy Peruvian how to 
arrange his house and adapt his system of living to the 
scale of life in Southern Europe. Every man of means 
lived in magnificent style, with a horde of servants, 
carriages, and horses, and the shops displayed the finest 
fabrics from French and English factories. 

Business everywhere was inflated. Prices were high, 
everything was activity. Men who made fortunes in 
a year spent their money with a prodigal hand, and 
th<‘ liberality of the gentleman was imitated on a small 
scale by the improvident inoz i, the lazy samho, and the 
l)leasure-loving cholo, so that for the time it was a para- 
dise to the industrious and frugal. 

The steamship line up and down the west coast of 
South America was organised by an American at Val- 
paraiso, who soon transferred his interest to an English 
company. Panama was made the head-quarters, and 
the steamships were despatched from the Isthmus to 
Chili in connection with the Panama Eailroad ; but a 
breach soon occurred with the railroad company ; the 
offices were transferred to Callao, and the steamship 
company extended its line from Liverpool to the coast, 
thus gaining control of the carrying trade from Europe, 
and giving to the west coast regular communication 
with Europe. The rise of the guano business had stimu- 
lated the entire trade of the coast, and the steamship 
company had increased its fleet and improved its faci- 
lities until it was now almost the first of the large com- 
panies sailing from Liverpool. 


t 


BUDS OF HOPE I 6/ 

Mr. Juniper found his duties in the company’s office 
not onerous and rather agreeable. He was in the de- 
partment of supplies, where the accounts were kept 
with the stewards of the twenty odd steamships of the 
company’s fleet, and the purchase of provisions, food, 
liquors, bedding, and other articles used by the steamers 
for the feeding and lodging of passengers and crew. 
Each steamer was a floating hotel, and each consumed 
an enormous amount of supplies in the course of the 
year. Accounts were also kept at the home office in 
Liverpool, but the individual accounts with the different 
stewards, and accounts for the purchase of meats, vege- 
tables, fruits, and other supplies necessarily purchased 
on the coast, and the distribution of goods received from 
Liverpool, made this department at Callao one of great 
importance. 

One of the first features of the business that attracted 
his attention was the enormous quantity of wines and 
liquors disposed of in each year. To one who had been 
reared in the belief that intoxicating liquor was an 
infernal invention designed by tlie Great Adversary for 
the physical and moral ruin of mankind, the inordinate 
consumption of alcoholic drinks by the English and all 
Europeans was a surprise and a revelation. Every 
Englishman used wine, beer, and whisky as he used 
coffee or tea, yet he had seen none who were intoxicated, 
and none who seemed at all injured by the habit. 

To his North American sense of refinement there 
was something inexpressibly vulgar and commonplace 
in the use of liquor. He had always associated the 
habit of beer-drinking with low characters, and in the 
United States, whenever he saw an American using 
the amber liquid, he deemed it a degradation and a 
defilement, and if a lady were to be seen drinking a 
glass of beer, he thought her good reputation was at 
once irretrievably ruined. 

But in Peru the atmosphere was entirely different. 
Here the English were all strong, vigorous people. 


i68 


TH1-: MAN FROM OSfTKOSR 


Evidently they were not altogether wrong in declaring 
that in this climate the nse of li(]nor v, as necessary to 
health. At any rate, he Ijegan to believe lliat much of 
his dislike of the practice might easily be atti-ibuted to 
education and the force of habit, and he was compelled 
to admit that the mere act of drinking possibly did not 
imply any moral delinquency whatever, and, that being 
settled, it seemed only fair to believe that the question 
might properly be left to each individual to decide for 
himself. 

There was another view of it that attracted his notice 
for many years in the United States. He had observed 
that the use of intoxicating liquor, like the habit of 
smoking, was almost universal among the poorer classes. 
It was rare to find a poor man who did not use whisky 
or beer, and the poor man who did not smoke was a 
still rarer exception, so that he had come to associate 
these vices with the condition of poverty. Which was 
the cause and which the effect he never could exactly 
determine, but the fact existed and was patent to any 
observer. 

Thus associating the kindred vices as the actual 
concomitants of poverty, if not to a large extent its 
cause, it was not strange that he early determined that 
he would avoid them. He reasoned that although he 
started in the world without means and without friends, 
he would at least be free from the thraldom of the two 
vices that almost invariably accompanied a condition 
similar to his. And yet it was evident, before he had 
been three months in Peru, that his determination 
in this respect was rapidly giving way. The habit 
which, in the United States, was a stigma upon the 
good name of a young man, was here universally re- 
garded as perfectly innocuous. Besides, he felt from 
his own experience that there was a depressing and 
enervating influence in the climate, and the use of stimu- 
lants after all might be necessary. In all probability, 
he would eventually adopt the use of wine, as he had 


BUDS OF HOPE 1 69 

been compelled to take up the use of the cold bath, 
simply as a health measure. 

Before he left the steamship office he had begun the 
use of claret at dinner, and after dinner he had taken 
to the cigarette ; and experience under the climatic in- 
fluences surrounding him only confirmed the wisdom of 
his action. 

The head of the department in which he was placed 
was a young Englishman named George Steele. He 
was short and wiry, with grey eyes, light hair, and a red 
moustache, and was the possessor of a restless, energetic 
disposition, stimulated by an ambition that promised 
well for his future. Mr. Juniper’s nearest neighbour 
was a young man of twenty-five, just “ out ” from the 
old country, and the contempt with which he viewed 
everything Peruvian seemed to flavour his thoughts day 
and night. Mr. Murdle, as he was called, wore glasses, 
wrote a good plain hand, and filled his position well. 
The young man on the other side was Mr. Hokes, a jovial, 
light-hearted young fellow, who '‘came out” on a three 
years’ contract with the company, and was diligently 
trying to discharge his duties to the satisfaction of his 
employers. All these were good specimens of the class 
of men known as English clerks — men of good habits, 
strict honesty, and good business training; but they were 
almost without intellectual culture beyond the narrow 
range of their daily work. Mr. Juniper was surprised 
to see how limited was their stock of general informa- 
tion. In miscellaneous reading and knowledge of books 
and of current events they seemed little, if any, superior 
to the men in a Wisconsin lumber camp, although they 
lived under circumstances much more favourable to the 
growth of the mind. 

Before Mr. J uniper had been in the office a week, Mr. 
Murdle confided to him as a secret the fact that music 
was Mr. ]\Iui die’s great weakness. He played the piano 
and violin, and was about to begin the study of the guitar. 
When he lived in Liverpool as a clerk in the house of 


170 THE HAN FROM OSHKOSH 

Jinks, Sloat & Dasher, he practised four hours a day 
on the piano. 

The next week Mr. Nokes also liad a secret to con- 
fide to him. Somehow people naturally liked to trust 
Mr. Jimi[)er with their secrets. He did not talk much, 
which probably inspired the natural confidence that a 
secret entrusted to him would not be repeated ; and 
then tliere was a cpiiet, manly frankness about hiin that 
begat a contide.itial feeling at once. 

Mr. Nokes turned his face away from Mr. Juniper 
when he began talking about it, and pretended to be 
very greatly interested in a long column of figures in 
the ledger, but the fact was he did not see a single 
ligure while he was telling the secret. It came out 
all at once, with the explanation afterwards. He was 
going to be married ! 

The first year he was in Peru he had met the 
charming sehorita, Rosita Lopez, who was a sister of the 
wife of an English gentleman in Lima, to whom he had 
brought letters of introduction. The young lady was 
only twenty, the sweetest and haiidsuniest girl in Peru, 
and of c.Jiirse he fell in love with her at first sight. In 
three months they were engaged, and now in another 
month they were to be married. Of course the young 
lady was a Catholic, and she would consent to marry 
him only on condition that he also became a Catholic. 
This had troubled him a great deal, for he had a brother 
in the Church at home, and he feared that his old 
mother in England would worry over it ; but after all, 
there was not much difference between the English 
Church and the Catholic. Both had the Lord’s Prayer 
and the Creed, and, as far as he could see, the main 
difference was that in our Church we say our prayers in 
English while the Catholics say theirs in Latin. Any- 
way, he could be a Catholic until after he was married, 
and then see about it, but he was bound to get married 
in spite of everything. If you could see the young 
lady you would not wonder, for her large black eyes 


BUDS OF HOPE 


171 

seemed to burn right through a person, while her voice 
was soft and low, her lips were niddv, and her com- 
plexion as pure as that of a baby. 

It was not long before j\Ir. j\Iurdle confided to Mr. 
Juniper another secret. This was about George Steele, 
the head of the department. Mr. Steele had infiuential 
friends in the directory at liome who wanted him to 
succeed to the management of the company. Further, 
Mr. Steele was engaged to be married to an English 
girl at home, and as soon as his advancement warranted 
it, he would go to England and l)ring back his bride. 

Mr. Upton was in the ticket and transportation de- 
partment, where he was universally esteemed and had 
good prospects of promotion, and although Mr. Juniper 
saw him every day, he had nothing to do with him in 
his daily duties. 

* And now that our young man from the North was 
regularly settled down to his work, he began to enjoy 
the peace of mind that comes from the performance of 
duty and the knowledge that he is making some pro- 
gress in the battle of life. While he was only a super- 
numerary, who held his situation for a limited period, 
he could learn something of the language of the country 
and prepare himself during his six months in the office, 
so that he might be ready for something better. He 
had naturall}^ desired a position in the lumber business, 
but he could find nothing of the kind open, although 
a large concern in Lima had promised hdn a chance 
at the first opportunity. That kind of work, handling 
boards and timber, and keeping the accounts of the 
business, seemed more in the line of his work in Wis- 
consin ; so he kept in communication with i\Ir. Hayner, 
the manager. 

The dull, foggy, drizzling, misty weather of the 
Peruvian winter gradually gave way to the spring, 
and as October was succeeded by November, the warm 
weather became a trifle more pronounced, the cloudy 
days less numerous, the wind freshened the air, and 


172 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


there was a promise of enjoyable weather. To ]\Ir. 
Juniper the prevailing dampness of the sea-shore made 
the temperature appear much lower than it really 
was. "While the thermometer rarely indicated a greater 
cold than 65° Fahrenheit, stoves or artificial heat were 
never used, and the degree of discomfort was almost 
as great as in the cold winter of Wisconsin ; but after a 
few months, the tonic effect of the cold bath counteracted 
the dampness, and he began to like the climate. 

Early in November he received a white envelope, 
addressed to him, and on the sheet within he read in 
Spanish that Francisco Xavier Lopez and senora would 
be pleased to have him attend the marriage of their 
daughter, Eosita iMaria, with Guillermo Shakspere 
Nokes, at the church of Helen, on Tuesday evening, 
loth, at 8.30; also that, after the ceremony, he was in- 
vited to call at the house. No. 205 Calle de San Mateo, 
altos. The same messenger also handed him another 
envelope with a second invitation, also in Spanish, from 
Guillermo Shakspere Xokes, inviting him to the mar- 
riage of Guillermo Shakspere Xokes with La Sehorita 
Eosita Maria Lopez, time and place as in the first. 

Mr. Juniper had been in consultation with Mrs. Upton 
in regard to this wedding, and his arrangements had 
been nearly completed. First, he had ordered from a 
sastreria in the Calle Bodegones, Lima, an evening suit, 
and from a shop in Calle Espaderos, a London silk hat, 
and at a small shop in the Portal he had purchased a 
stylish-looking cane. Wdiile making these purchases 
he could not avoid thinking of the condition of mind 
he was in three months before, walking the same streets 
in his weary search after employment. 

When his wardrobe had been received, he aiTayed 
himself for the first time in his new clothes. It was 
Sunday afternoon, and as he viewed his reflection in 
the mirror in the little room in the lodging-house, he 
was surprised to see what a transformation was made 
by his white tie and the work of the tailor. 


BUDS OF HOPE 


173 


In company with Mr. Upton and Mr. Miirdle, he went 
np to Lima on the evening train on Tuesday. The 
cliureh of Belen was part of an old convent. A crowd 
of carriages surrounded the door, and a throng of men 
and women of the lower ckuss reached to the end of the 
square, and it was only by the use of the bayonets on 
their guns that the policemen could keep open a pas- 
sage-way through the crowd. 

The three young men, with their hats and canes in 
their hands, and each wearing white gloves, made their 
way into the church. Immediately within the doors, 
one on either side. Stood two ^'ery handsome young 
ladies, one a sister and the other a cousin of the bride, 
each in full evening costume. Mr. Upton was in the 
lead, and as he attempted to pass, one of the young 
ladies stopped him, and affixed to the front of his coat 
a silver medal, suspended by a white ribbon. The 
medal was in the form of a pansy, and it bore on one 
side the names of the padrinos, or god-parents, and on 
the other those of the bride and groom, with the date 
of the wedding. Each of the others was ornamented 
in the same manner by the young ladies before he was 
permitted to enter. 

Within, the church presented a beautiful and impos- 
ing sight. In the pews on the right sat about twenty 
ladies, members and relatives of the Lopez family, all 
in white or light gowns, made in evening dress, and on 
their heads each wore the picturesque mantilla, or light 
scarf, of white Spanish lace. On the left were seated 
the gentlemen, upwards of three hundred in number, 
all in full evening dress with white gloves. The whole 
end of the church was a mass of light. Figures of 
saints, decorations carved in wood, and painted in gold 
and brown, were illuminated by hundreds of tall candles. 
Two or three boys in long red robes, partially covered 
with white lace, bitted to and fro in front of the grand 
altar, and the old sacristan in his robes kept adding to 
the number of lighted candles with a long pole. 


174 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


111 the corner near the door were tlie uninvited guests. 
Some thirty or forty women sat by themselves, with their 
identity concealed under the viant(f. This is the black 
garment of the country, worn over the head and pinned 
around the body. As ordinarily used, it shows only the 
face, and drapes a lady’s fgure to good advantage. AVheii 
used as a disguise, the whole face is concealed except one 
eye, and thus the women of the neighbourhood could 
satiate their curiosity and remain completely unknown. 
It was whis]>ei ed that, on occasions of the kind, ladies 
of good social standing in Lima sometimes attended 
weddings uninvited under the friendly concealment of 
the man fa. 

The clock near the high altar indicated 8.45 as the 
solemn notes of the organ pealed forth the wedding- 
march, and the ladies turned their heads towards the 
door to catch a glimpse of the piecession. First came 
Don Francisco Xavier Lopez, a substantial old Peruvian, 
wearing his beard and moustache after the style of 
Louis Xapoleon. On his right arm was the lovely Doha 
Piosita, in white, with orange-blossoms and veil, and 
carrying a white fan and a bouquet of white roses. 
Following was William Shakspere Xokes with Sehora 
Lopez on his :irm, and then came Dr. Aranibar, a friend 
of the family, with a sister of the bride. 

Arrived at the front of the altar, the bride and 
groom knelt on a prie-dieu, and the ceremony began. 
Mr. Juniper could understand Imt little of the Spanish 
which the good-natured old priest used, but it was evi- 
dently very mucli like the same ceremony in English. 
The curious part was when the groom pulled from his 
pocket thirteen silver dollars and handed them to the 
father of the bride, thus symbolising his purchase of 
the wife. Senur Lopez received the money on a plate 
handed him for the purpose by the priest, then passed 
it to his daughter, and she then turned it over to the 
priest. 

The origin of this singular custom was never fully 


BUDS OF HOPE 


175 


explained to our inquisitive young man, except that 
it typified the actual purchase of the woman, as wives 
were bought in Scriptural time; but why the mystic 
number tliirteen did not appear. 

When the ceremony ended, the bridal procession 
passed out of the church and the company dispersed. 
Carriages were taken, and our young men proceeded 
to the house in Calle San Mateo. Here the bridal 
couple received the usual congratulations, and Mr. Nokes 
proudly stood by the side of his beautiful bride, with 
his blue eyes fairly radiant with triumph as he met his 
friends from the steamship office. In an adjoining room 
the wedding gifts were displayed. These consisted 
largely of bouquets from the relatives and friends, with 
several handsome pieces of silver-ware. In the dining- 
room, wine and liquors with cakes and ices were served 
to all. 

Only the ladies of the family and immediate female 
relatives were invited to either the ceremony or the 
reception, while all the male friends of either the bride 
or groom were bidden to Ijoth. 

After the festivities of the reception, Mr. Xokes and 
wife proceeded to Chorrillos, a neighbouring village, 
where they spent a week in the retirement of a hotel, 
and then took up their residence in Callao. 


CHAPTEE XVIII 
AN UGLY VISITOR 

December was warmer and more sunny than Xovember, 
and Christmas Day was radiant with tropical sunshine. 
The steady winter weather of Peru is a succession of 
cloudy days, but the summer weather is uninterrupted 
sunshine. Pioughly speaking, the winter and summer 
each have four montlis, while the spring and autumn 
are reduced to two months each. After Christmas in 
each year the bright, clear, dry summer weather begins, 
and by the middle of January the temperature reaches 
8i°. It remains at this point for three months, with 
scarcely the variation of a degree, day or night. 

The fresh sea-breezes and the bright sunny weather 
had its effect upon the young man from the North. He 
was in excellent healtli, and the success he was meeting 
with in his work made him reasonably contented with 
his surroundings. True, lie had not decided to remain 
quiescent and relapse into a condition where mere exist- 
ence was the sole end of life. He had in view always 
the object for wliicli he had left his own country, and 
only waited for the opportunity when he could improve 
his condition by some master-stroke. 

A queer thing now troubled him. The fingers that had 
been amputated the year before in Wisconsin began 
to pain him with an annoying, itching pain. In the 
night he was often awakened with a feeling that 
something was pinching the ends of the poor fingers 
that had been cut off by Dr. Euiidle, and often when 
he was at work in the office he was compelled to stop 

176 


AN UGLY VISITOR 


177 


for a moment by the uncomfortable sensation. It was 
probably the effect of the change of climate, but during 
the whole of the first summer the disagreeable sensa- 
tion in these members returned at irregular intervals 
to molest him. 

And Celia, had he forgotten her? She was never 
absent from his mind. The whole trend and aim of 
his life was based on the thought of some time seeing 
her and fitting himself for the event. At night, in the 
loneliness of his room, he lived over again the winter 
in the pinery and the meetings with Celia ; while the 
purity and sweetness of her disposition, her gentle 
manner, and bright kindly interest in him all seemed 
to linger in his memory, and furnish a sweet relief 
to his thoughts. When he threw himself upon his 
bed, his brain tired with the labours of the office, the 
thought of Celia came as a solace and soothed him at 
once into calm and sleep. 

Constant brooding upon the subject which operated 
with such a quieting effect upon his nerves induced a 
continuous action of the mind even in sleep, and after 
a few months his dreams seemed to turn in the same 
channel, and he at length began to look forward to the 
night as the time when he would enjoy the company 
of Celia. She appeared to him always with the same 
angelic purity, the same soft love-light in her eyes, and 
the old happy flow of spirits. So powerful was the mys- 
terious influence, that he began almost unconsciously 
to guide his action by the hope of her approval, and 
often, through the day, when in doubt as to certain 
acts or thoughts, he found himself wondering if Celia 
would like it ; and when night came, and in his dreams 
appeared the saint-like face, he turned to her in the 
hope of recognition and approbation, and at length he 
made himself believe that sometimes his conduct pleased 
her, and she rewarded him with the old, sweet smile, 
while occasionally a serious look upon her face warned 
him that something had occurred which was not quite 

M 


;8 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


what it should have been. Thus, waking and in dreams, 
that subtle, almost evanescent, agency appeared to con- 
trol him, always for his good, always as an inspiration to 
higher and nobler thought, and always as a shield and 
a defence against the natural consequences of human 
weakness and human proneness to the things of earth. 

January brought a succession of clear, warm days. 
The men in the office began to complain of the heat, 
and Mr. Murdle and Mr. Juniper commenced sea- 
bathing. After the desayimo in the morning, it was 
a great luxury to dive into the salt water, and the 
tingling, healthy glow on the skin remained all day, 
causing a cool and delicious sensation that nothing else 
could give. 

In February Mr. Upton closed his house for a month, 
and occupied a room in the company’s building, while 
Mrs. Upton went to Chorrillos to spend several weeks 
with her friend, Mrs. Alexander. Mr. Upton preferred 
the company’s room to one in his own house, for it was 
nearer the sea and more convenient for the baths, and 
Saturday evenings he took the train for Chorrillos, and 
returned to his duties on Monday morning. 

One forenoon towards the last of the month, Mr. 
Steele came to Mr. Juniper’s desk and in a low voice 
said — 

“ Mr. Juniper, I wish you would drop in and see Mr. 
Upton after breakfast. You will find him in his room 
over the way. He is not at all well.” 

“Very good,” was his reply; “I will see him at 
once.” 

After hurrying through his breakfast, Mr. Juniper 
climbed the stairway and found the room, a large, airy 
apartment, with high ceilings, and two windows facing 
the sea. 

Mr. Upton was lying upon the bed with his eyes 
closed, his face flushed so badly that he would scarcely 
be recognised by a casual acquaintance, and by his 
side sat the company’s physician. Dr. Carnation. The 


AN UGLY VISITOR 


179 


doctor seemed alarmed, and the appearance of the patient 
evidently gave good reason for serious apprehension. 

Mr. Juniper’s first thought was to summon Mrs. 
Upton. It transpired in a moment that the man was 
in a high fever, which made him delirious and entirely 
unconscious of his surroundings ; so he spoke of it to 
the doctor. 

“ \Ye will wait until to-morrow,” said the physician. 
“ The crisis will come to-night. He is completely out 
of his mind, and if his wife were here it would only 
frighten her, and she could not possibly do him any 
good. He will have the best of care, and we can only 
trust to God for the outcome.” 

“ How long has he been ill ? ” asked Mr. Juniper. 

“ He was taken yesterday morning. Night before last 
he was out on a boat-ride with some of the officers from 
the Amethyst, and he probably over-exerted himself.” 

“ What kind of sickness is it ? ” 

“It is the regular fever — the yellow fever.” 

Just then Mr. Steele came up the stairway, three 
steps at a time, and walked into the room with a cloud 
upon his face. 

“ Poor fellow ! poor fellow ! ” said he sadly, as he 
placed his chubby little hand soothingly on tlie fore- 
head of the unconscious sufferer. 

The doctor pulled out his watch and counted the 
pulsations of the main artery. 

“There is no change. Still 125.” 

All the afternoon Mr. Juniper sat by the bedside, and 
after dinner Mr. Steele and Mr. Murdle relieved him 
temporarily. When it was dark the sick man grew 
worse. In his delirium, he was at home again, where 
he spent his boyhood days in England, with the green 
fields, the roses, and the poppies, and the old place 
among the trees. When he called for his wife, which 
he did two or three times, Mr. Juniper was in an agony 
of pain ; but the doctor was firm, and insisted that she 
should not be sent for before the morrow. 


l8o THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 

About midnight he was taken with vomiting, and as 
the physician bent over his patient, he gave utterance 
to the words, “ 0 God save us ! ” 

It was the black vomit. 

In an hour the fever seemed to leave him. Mr. 
Juniper and Mr. Murdle had been watching over him, 
and the forehead of the poor sufferer appeared less 
heated. Mr. J uniper began to hope that the crisis was 
past and recovery was near. 

When he spoke about it to the physician, Dr. Car- 
nation did not answer in words, but shook his head 
sorrowfully. 

Soon the fever seemed gone, the patient shivered as 
with cold, then seemed to struggle as if to rise, and 
then sank back completely exhausted, like a child 
dropping to sleep. 

Dr. Carnation arose, felt the pulse, and then drew 
the sheet up over the face, and smoothed it out care- 
fully and reverently. 

“ You can go, gentlemen,” he said in a low voice to 
the young men. “ It is all over.” 

Early the next morning there was a consultation. 
Dr. Carnation, Mr. Steele, Mr. Murdle, and Mr. Juniper 
were present. The manager was absent, and Mr. Steele 
was acting in his place. 

It was a bad case of yellow fever, and the question 
was how to dispose of it. It was the only one yet 
developed in Callao. If it was reported regularly to 
the health officers of the port, all the company’s ships 
and officers would be put under quarantine, and the 
whole business interrupted for months, causing an im- 
mense expense and annoyance to every one. On tlie 
other hand, if the body could be buried and the case 
hushed up, and the disease did not spread, no one would 
be the wiser, and all the trouble would be averted. Of 
course, if the authorities discovered it, fines, and perhaps 
imprisonment, would be the penalty visited upon every 
one implicated. 


AN UGLY VISITOR 


l8l 


Mr. Steele was equal to tlie occasion. 

“ Our poor friend is dead,’ said he. “Nothing now 
can help him. Our duty is to the living. Let us bury 
him at sea to-night.” 

Accordingly it was arranged that the company’s car- 
penter should be sworn to secrecy and ordered to con- 
struct the coffin, and after dark the steam-tug would 
take the remains to sea, where they would be committed 
to the deep. 

Mr. Juniper suggested that Mrs. Upton ought to be 
notified. The others jvere united in the opinion that 
she must know nothing of the matter until after the 
burial, for the danger of contagion, and the greater risk 
of exposing the secret, justified such action. It wa.^, 
therefore, agreed that Mr. Steele was to notify Mrs. 
Upton the next day that her husband was ill, ainl later 
he was to break the sad intelligence to her as best he 
could. 

In the afternoon Mr. Steele visited the carpenter’s 
shop, which he could enter only after the door had 
been unlocked. The coffin of Oregon pine had been put 
together, and the carpenter was finishing off the lid. 

With an eye to details, Mr. Steele suggested that the 
inside should be thoroughly air-tight, to confine the 
virulent disease within the box. So the carpenter was 
directed to fill all the joints on the inside with thick 
varnish ; and after the body was placed in the coffin, 
the lid was to be glued as well as crewed down, and 
the seams closed tightly on the outside with more var- 
nish. As soon as the employes had left the offices, the 
coffin was secretly conveyed to the upper room, the 
remains of poor Mr. Upton were laid to rest by the kind 
hands of his friends, and a quantity of old iron and 
large stones placed at the foot of the coffin, in order 
that it might readily sink. 

At eleven o’clock, Mr. Steele, Mr. Miirdle, Mr. Juni- 
per, and the doctor met at Mr. Upton’s room, and the 
coffin was carried down to the side-door. It was then 


82 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


removed to a small boat in waiting, and taken alongside 
the steam-tug, where it was easily placed on board. 

The night was clear and mild. The stars wer e shining 
with a white light, that almost made up for tlie lack of 
a moon. The doctor left the party at the side-door, and 
the others then went on board the tug. As she slowly 
crept out of the bay under light steam, to avoid the 
notice of the port officials, the outline of the island of 
San Lorenzo towered aloft against the sky, and astern 
the lights of Callao faded away in the distance. Once 
out of hearing, with San Lorenzo far astern, full steam 
was turned on, and for an hour- or more the little tug 
steamed steadily out to sea. 

It was a mournful party that gathered in the little 
cabin of the tug. To Mr. Juniper it was one of the 
saddest events -of his life. The tragic scenes of the 
past two days seemed like a horrible dream, and his 
sorrow was intensified by the recollection that his 
friend Mrs. Upton had yet to liear of the awful fate of 
her husband, who had left lier in perfect health only a 
few days before. Mr. ^lurdle undoubtedly realised the 
terrible misfortune which had befallen his comrade, but 
under his spectacles he maintained an air of composure 
which might indicate self-control or a lack of feeling. 
The third member of the party was overcome with grief 
at the frightful catastrophe which had come in the absence 
of his chief, but his admirably balanced organisation 
enabled him to carry out all the arrangements as quietly 
as if he were superintending the loading of a steamer. 

Half an hour after midnight Mr. Steele went to the 
deck, and in a few minutes gave the order for the tug 
to stop. 

“ My friends,” said he to the other two, “ I believe it 
is now time to commit the body of our companion to the 
sea. We must be more than twelve miles from shore.” 

The coffin was then removed to the forward part of 
the deck, and placed on supports so that it could be 
easily dropped into the water. 


AN UGLY VISITOR 


183 


A slight wind was blowing from the southland the 
roll of the sea made the little tug move up and down 
with an awkward motion, while the water appeared to 
moan and almost whisper, as the young men looked 
around on the dim grey expanse of limitless ocean 
which met their gaze. Occasional!}' a black-winged bird 
hew past the boat in the dark, attrac ed, doubtless, by 
the light in the cabin, but this was all there was to 
break the silence since the stoppage of the engines. 

Mr. Steel advanced to the head of the coffin with a 
prayer-book in his hand, and, by the dickering light of 
a lantern held by Mr. Juniper, he began reading the 
solemn Prayer for the Burial at Sea. His voice was 
clear and musical, and as the impressive words of the 
service sounded on the silent air, ‘‘ I am the resurrection 
and the life, saith the Lord,” Mr. Juniper was sadly 
reminded of the last time he had heard these words in 
the church at Oshkosh. When Mr. Steele reached the 
passage, ‘‘ We therefure commit his body to the deep, to 
be turned into corruption, looking for the resurrection 
of the body (when the sea shall give up its dead), and 
the life of the world to come, through our Lord Jesus 
Christ,” he gave a signal to Mr. Murdle and the officer 
of the tug. The head of the coffin was raised on the 
plank beneath, and the box slowly slid into the sea. 
ilr. Steele read the remainder of the service in a voice 
which plainly showed a feeling of relief, and at its 
conclusion the young men put on their hats as they 
started to return to the cabin. 

“ My God 1 what is that ? ” asked Mr. Steele, who was 
about to order the tug to start and reiiirn to Callao. 

He pointed with his finger in the direction of a dark 
object which could plainly be seen in the water thirty 
or forty feet distant from the bow of the little steamer. 

The young men could see in a moment that it was 
the coffin which they had just dropped into the sea. 
Mr. Steele’s unfortunate directions to the carpenter 
had made it absolutely water-tight. The iron and 


84 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


stones at the foot made that part of it sink, while the 
other end stood out of water two or three feet, and it 
seemed to move up and down with the roll of the sea, 
almost as if it were alive. 

“It will sink in a moment,” said Mr. Steele, the 
beads of perspiration forming upon his forehead. “ Let’s 
wait and see.” 

The three men stood there in the grey starlight, with 
strained eyes watching the dark object that seemed to 
circle around the steam-tug, now approaching it at the 
port bow until the watchers on the deck could see the 
ends of the screws on the lid, then sheering off towards 
the stern until it was almost lost in the distance, and 
again nearing the little steamer on the starboard side, 
all the time nodding and changing its position with the 
motion of the sea, until it almost seemed as if it was 
directed by some definite intelligence, either human or 
supernatural. 

All hour passed under the most painful excitement. 
What could be done ? Mr. Steele, as usual, was ready 
with an expedient. He went into the cabin and soon 
returned with a revolver in his hand. 

“ God forgive me,” said he ; “ but it is the only thing we 
can do. “ If I can let in the water, the thing will sink.” 

The dark object was right in front of the tug, not 
forty feet away. The sharp crack of the revoh er-shot 
rang out on the air, and then another and another, and 
then Mr. Steele rested, rerliaps the peculiar excite- 
ment of the occasion had affected the accuracy of his 
aim, for the coffin still nodded and moved with the roll 
of the sea. Three more shots were fired, and finally, 
to the great satisfaction of the weary watchers on the 
tug, the dark object slowly settled in the water, and at 
length sank out of sight near the starboard side. 

Immediately the tug put on all steam for Callao, 
and as the first rays of the morning sun reddened the 
sky over the tops of the Andes, the young men reached 
the shore. 


CHAPTEE XIX 

HE WATCHES THE FIREWORKS 

To a foreigner living in a strange country and ignorant 
of its language, the events which are transpiring about 
him day after day may be entirely unknown to him. 
Under ordinary circumstances, intelligence of current 
transactions is transmitted almost intuitively. News 
spreads through a crowd by a sort of electric influence : 
a word, a phrase, or a single sentence gives the alarm, 
and like lightning it flashes to hundreds of people. 
But a man may live among a people whose language 
he does not know and be as completely isolated as if 
he were in the middle of Africa. What does he hear 
of the gossip of the neighbourhood, the town-talk, 
the street rumours, even the important affairs of the 
country ? 

The first six months after Mr. Juniper arrived in 
Peru had been a season of great excitement among 
the Peruvians, and yet, as the preceding record will 
show, he knew but little of what was passing. Gradu- 
ally he had acquired some knowledge of the language, 
and could make his wants known in a contracted, dis- 
jointed way, but, as he was surrounded by those who 
spoke his own language, he was not situated so as to 
come into close contact with the natives of the country, 
and so he lived the life of an outsider, being in the 
countrj", and yet scarcely forming a part of it. 

In November there had been fighting in Lima, and 
the sound of cannonading was heard all one night. 
The next day the streets of Callao were in possession 

185 


i86 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


of a mob. Shops were openly pilfered. Merchandise 
was forcibly taken by the crowd, many of the soldiers 
participating in the riot, and a reign of terror lasted 
two or three days. This had but little interest to the 
young men in the steamship office when the danger 
was over. They were occupied so closely that the 
internal dissensions of the Peruvians were dismissed 
as something irrelevant and uninteresting, provided 
their personal safety and the well-being of the com- 
pany were not menaced. 

The fact was, however, that in these six months the 
government of Peru had been in the hands of three 
different factions. Kevolution succeeded revolution, 
and President had been succeeded by President and 
then by Dictator, and the social and political world of 
Peru had been rent from centre to circumference. 
Domestic differences had overturned one Government 
after another, while a serious dispute with a foreign 
nation was rapidly bringing the country into a state 
of actual war. 

The regularly elected President of Peru was an old 
man, General Pezet, who was known to be favourably 
inclined towards the Government of Spain. A revolu- 
tionary movement was organised to drive him from 
power, and General Diez Canseco, the Vice-President, 
was selected to succeed Pezet. 

On the 5th day of November General Canseco 
marched upon Lima with an army of six thousand 
men, and at four o’clock on the morning of the 6th an 
assault was made on the palace. In the main Plaza a 
severe conflict took place, and about three hundred men 
were killed. The palace was defended by artillery and 
three regiments of infantry, and the fight lasted until 
half-past nine in the forenoon, when the revolutionary 
forces gained the victory and took possession of the 
Government offices and archives. General Pezet left 
Callao in an English steamer, and General Canseco 
was proclaimed President. 


HE WATCHES THE FIREWORKS 


187 


Mr. Nokes had come to the steamship office in 
Callao with an exciting story of the light as he had 
witnessed it. The old palace, which dated its exist- 
ence from the time of Pizarro, was riddled with bullets, 
and many of its walls were torn wide open by the 
cannon, while the Plaza was thickly strewn with the 
dead and the hospitals were lilled with the wounded. 

The relations between Spain and Peru had been 
badly strained for several months. I^eru had obtained 
her independence from Spain in 1824, but the mother 
country had persisted in a series of petty persecu- 
tions against her former South xVmerican colonies very 
much as England had domineered over the United 
States in the first fifty years of the American Republic. 
After the development of the guano business and 
the discovery that the islands of the Pacific were the 
depositories of immense wealth, the Government of 
Spain made pretensions to the ownership of these 
islands, and actually attempted by force to gain pos- 
session of the Chincha Islands, where the richest deposits 
of guano were being developed. 

Among the Peruvians, the indignation of all classes 
against Spain was at the greatest height. The 
Spanish consul was attacked in the street, the 
Consulate was mobbed, and the houses of well-known 
Spaniards were violated, the windows broken, and 
the lives of the inmates threatened. All ties of con- 
sanguinity seemed sundered, and although acknow- 
ledging Spain as the mother country, the Peruvians 
seemed to cordially detest the sight of everything 
Spanish. The popular frenzy worked up to fever 
heat, and it was this hatred of Spain that precipitated 
the revolutionary movements. General Pezet was 
known to be completely controlled by the Spanish 
influence, while General Canseco proved to be weak 
and vacillating, and unable to cope with the wily forces 
against him. 

Accordingly, on the 26th of November, scarcely 


i88 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


three weeks after the battle which elevated him to the 
Presidency, General Canseco was quietly removed and 
Colonel Mariano Ignacio Prado proclaimed Dictator. 

Colonel Prado was one of the ablest men in Pern, 
and it was confidently believed that he would be 
able to govern the country vigorously and wisely, 
and meet the encroachments of Spain with patriotic 
firmness. 

The three changes had been made with the celerity 
which comes of experience and long practice. Tlie 
vivas which had gone up for Canseco^ were fully as 
loud and enthusiastic as those which rent the air a 
few weeks later for Prado. 

Peru suffered from the Spanish encroachments 
equally with the other republics on the west coast, 
Ecuador, Bolivia, and Chili, and the Dictator had not 
long been at the head of affairs before he had combined 
the four Governments in an offensive alliance against 
Spain, and on the 14th of January 1866 war was 
formally declared against the mother country. 

On the morning of the 25th of April, the young 
men in the steamship office at Callao noticed a strange 
fleet in the offing. With the glass, it was discovered 
that there were seven war- ships bearing the colours 
of Spain, and as soon as the news spread through the 
streets of the town, the excitement became intense. 

The squadron proved to be the ironclad Numamia, 
the corvette Vencedera, and five frigates, Eesolucion, 
Almanza, Villa de Madrid, Blanca, and Berenguela. It 
was under command of Admiral Casto Mendez Nunez, 
one of the ablest officers in the Spanish navy. 

Admiral Nunez on the 27th declared the port of 
Callao in a state of blockade, and at the same time 
sent an official noticp to each of the foreign Ministers 
in Lima, saying in substance, “The Peruvians have 
^dolated the treaty with Spain, insulted the Spanish 
flag, and committed barbarous outrages upon Spanish 
citizens. I am here to chastise them for their bad 


HE WATCHES THE FIREWORKS 1 89 

conduct. I have blockaded the port of Callao, and on 
the 1st of May I shall bombard the city.” 

The Peruvians had been at work several months in 
putting the port of Callao in a state of defence. On 
the south of the city a fort had been constructed of 
stone and adobe and called Torre de Merced, and on 
the north a similar fortification known as Santa Rosa, 
while several smaller batteries had been erected on 
the beach. One of these was composed of a turret 
received from the United States to be placed upon 
one of the Peruvian ships which was to be converted 
into a Monitor. The turret was built after the style 
of those on Captain Ericsson’s Monitor, of lieavy iron, 
circular in form, with port-holes for cannon. 

The armament of the Peruvian defences, including 
two or three small gunboats, did not exceed fifty 
guns, but some of these were ver}' large. One of the 
iVrmstrong guns carried a projectile weighing six 
hundred pounds, and the calibre of the Rlakely and 
Parrott guns ranged from fifty to three hundred 
pounds. 

On the other hand, the Spanish squadron carried 
two hundred and seventy-five guns, the largest of 
which threw a ball weighing a hundred pounds, but 
the fleet was in a more perfect state of discipline, and 
the men were familiar with the working of the guns, 
so that the whole force was able to discharge one 
hundred guns a minute. 

The Peruvians were unaccustomed to the business 
of war. It was only within the previous year that the 
new guns had been put in position, and it required the 
aid of American and English soldiers and sailors to 
teach the native soldiers how to operate them. So 
slow and uncertain were their movements, that in the 
whole Peruvian defences,' only three or four shots 
could be fired in a minute to oppose the frightful 
storm of shell and ball from the fleet. 

Three or four American naval ships were in the 


190 THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 

harbour, and on the 30th, the American Minister, 
General Hovey, went on board the flag-ship Poichatariy 
in command of Admiral Pearson, to watch the bom- 
bardment. 

The ist of May dawned upon Callao in the midst 
of a curious scene. The fire company “ Chalaca,” 
under command of the gallant Foreman Crosby, was 
on duty immediately in the rear of the city with its 
American hand-engine to extinguish any possible fire. 
Nearly all the better class of people had removed to 
Lima to get out of danger. Many of the shops were 
closed, yet in others business was going on as usual. 
The cholos and coloured people evidently regarded the 
occasion as a gala-day, for they thronged the streets 
in holiday attire, laughing and drinking cliiclia. 

No bombardment took place, however. The Spanish 
Admiral happened to remember that on the 2nd of 
May a famous victory was won in Spain over the 
Moors, and at a late hour on the 30th he decided to 
make the date still more glorious to generations yet 
unborn by his victory over the Peruvians. 

On the 2nd of May business was generally sus- 
pended. The young men in the steamship offices 
were given a holiday and warned to keep out of 
danger. Mr. Steele and Mr. Juniper remained in 
the company’s office, under the protecting folds of 
the British flag. From the upper rooms, the squadron 
could easily be seen at anchor with steam up in the 
bay, two or three miles distant. As far as could be 
seen, the forts were alive with men, and all was activity 
and animation. The shrill sound of the bugle could 
be heard at intervals, and frequently the distant sound 
of cheers. 

At noon, the watchers at the steamship office noticed 
that the Spanish fleet was in motion. The Admiral’s 
flag-ship, the Numancia, led the attack on the right 
opposite Fort Torre de Merced, and was followed by the 
Almanza and Besolucion. On the left the Berenguela 


HE WATCHES THE FIREWORKS 19I 

advanced against the Peruvian Fort Santa Rosa, with 
the Villa de Madrid and Blanca following, and the 
corvette Vencedera in the rear. As the Spanish ships 
approached within a mile of the forts, they opened 
a vigorous fire, which was at once returned by the 
Peruvians. 

Mr. Juniper, from his position in the company’s 
building, could easily see the attacking squadron, and 
at first the noise of the guns from the ships as well 
as those in the forts was deafening. A little white 
puff of smoke was seen on the side of the ships, in the 
centre of which was a gleam of light like a flash of 
lightning, and several seconds later the noise and 
concussion was heard and felt. Then the white pulfs 
of smoke came faster and faster, and almost a con- 
tinuous gleam of light lit up the sides of the ships. 
When the great gims in the fort were fired, the ground 
trembled as if an earthquake had rent the earth 
asunder, and every discharge of artillery was followed 
by the crash of broken glass in the buildings in Callao. 
Once, as Mr. Steele and Mr. Juniper stood at one of 
the windows, a fearful noise came from the ships, as 
if a hundred guns had been fired at once, and imme- 
diately the glass above them fell in solid pieces, which 
narrowly missed striking them. 

The first disaster to the Peruvians was the result 
of an accident. Sefior Galvez, the Minister of War, 
had taken command of the Monitor turret on the 
beach. His guns had just been discharged at the 
approaching fleet, when a shell was dropped by one of 
the men, who was greatly excited by the unusual cir- 
cumstances. It fell in the pile of ammunition, ex- 
ploded, and blew the whole fort into a thousand pieces, 
killing the brave Colonel Galvez and twent}^ more men, 
and completely silencing the battery. 

A few minutes later the Villa de Madrid was struck 
by a shot from the Fort of Santa Rosa, which tore 
open her steam-chest, killed sixteen men and ^^‘ounded 


92 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


twenty, and disabled the ship so that she had to be 
towed by the Vencedera to San Lorenzo, where she 
was out of range. 

The Berenguela advanced to take her place, but in 
ten minutes she had a hole in her side caused by a 
Peruvian cannon-ball. At once she began to settle 
in the water, and a small steamer towed her to shoal 
water near San Lorenzo, where she was run on shore. 

It required only a few minutes more for the Blanca 
and Vencedera to come into range of the heavy guns of 
the fort, when they, too, were disabled and compelled 
to withdraw. Thus in less than two hours the Peru- 
vians had silenced four of the enemy’s ships and kept 
the other three under a galling fire. 

After a pause the Blanca returned to the fight, and 
with the Besolucio7i, Hiimancia, and Almanza renewed 
the attack on Fort Santa Rosa, but in twenty minutes 
the four ships were compelled to retire to long range, 
and desultory firing was kept up until nearly five 
o’clock, when the Spanish fleet withdrew to San 
Lorenzo, leaving the Peruvians the victors. 

To the young men who w^atched the bombardment 
it seemed more like a display of fireworks than an 
actual bombardment. In Callao, many of the streets 
were filled with people, some frightened, and others 
as unconcerned as if oblivious to danger. On the 
seashore near the batteries, women and children were 
seated, watching with great interest the rings of smoke 
curling up from the ships. 

A milk-woman riding a donkey came around the 
corner of one of the streets just as a shot from the 
Numa^icia came whizzing along. In an instant she 
was rolling in the dust on the opposite side of the 
street, while the milk was streaming from the cans. 
The donkey’s head was cut off as smoothly as if it had 
been done with an axe. 

The fire of the squadron was directed at the forts, 
but stray shots passed through the warehouses and 


HE WATCHES THE FIREWORKS 


193 


shops. In a liquor store where a quantity of rum was 
stored in botijas or large earthen jars, an eight-inch 
shell cut off the tops of three botijas, and fell into the 
third, where it was found the next day unexploded. 

A flock of buzzards, disturbed from their usual 
occupation in the streets, circled high in the air im- 
mediately overhead, evidently scenting blood, and wait- 
ing for the smoke to clear away so that they could 
begin their foul work upon the slain. 

When Mr. Juniper returned to his room over the 
ship-chandler’s shop that night, he found a hole in the 
wall over his bed and the room littered with earth, 
where a ball had crashed through the adobe, passing in 
on one side and out on the other. His absence from 
the room had undoubtedly saved his life. 

The Spanish squadron remained under the shelter 
of San Lorenzo until the lOth, repairing damages and 
plugging up the holes made by the Peruvians. Two 
of the ships were so badly damaged that it was with 
difficulty that they could be repaired sufficiently to put 
to sea. 

So far as losses were concerned, each side had about 
three hundred killed and wounded. Both sides claimed 
the victory; but as long as Peruvians have a history 
they will celebrate as a national holiday tlie “ Dos de 
Mayo,” in commemoration of the great day when they 
whipped the Spaniards. With equal pride, tlie Spanish 
Queen honoured the Admiral, Don Casto Mendez Nunez, 
by making him Duke of Callao. 

About a week after the battle, the Admiral issued 
another manifesto to the foreign ]\linisters residing in 
Lima, in which he used almost this language : “I came 
here and chastised the Peruvians, as I said I would. 
Now if they dare to abuse any more Spanish subjects, 
I will come back and chastise them again.” Then the 
fleet set sail for the Philippine Islands, and was seen 
on the Peruvian coast no more. 

It was the largest and most powerful squadron that 

N 


194 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


had ever been seen in the South Pacific. That the 
undrilled and untried Peruvians could successfully 
withstand its attack and beat it off with great damage 
was a sui’prise even to the Peruvians themselves. 

The dictator, Colonel Prado, with his staff, had per- 
sonally directed the defence, and when it was under- 
stood that the haughty Spaniards had been vanquished, 
the enthusiasm of the volatile Peruvians broke out in 
the most feverish demonstrations. He was hailed 
as the saviour of his country, crowned with laurel, 
and his pathway strewn with flowers. Crowds of 
his excited and excitable countrymen called on him 
at all hours of the day and night to serenade him and 
give him a vote of thanks, and wherever he rode in 
the streets a mob of his admirers stripped the horses 
from his carriage, and drew it in triumph to its destina- 
tion, amid the plaudits of the grateful spectators. 


CHAPTEE XX 


A CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY 

A MONTH after the death of her husband, Mrs. Upton 
sailed for England by way of \"alparaiso. Mr. Steele 
had broken the news to her with a great deal of 
prudence and sympathetic kindness, but for the time 
she was broken-hearted from the shock. Yet sorrow 
rarely kills, and as soon as she could rally sufficiently 
to consider her situation, she decided to return to her 
friends in England. As the south steamer was about 
to sail, Mr. Steele and Mr. Juniper accompanied her 
on board, and Mr. Steele introduced Captain Langham, 
the master of the ship, a manly young Englishman, in 
whose charge he placed the lady. The parting on the 
steamer’s deck was an ordeal to Mr. Juniper that he 
never forgot, for the kindness of Mrs. Upton to him 
had been the one bright spot in all his South Ameri- 
can experience. To see the girlish figure in its garb 
of mourning, and the soft, bright eyes, and the kindly 
smile shrouded in the greatest sorrow, and the loving 
wife left desolate and alone in a foreign land, awakened 
his pity and regret, and the steamer left her anchorage 
with a thousand good wishes for a safe voyage. 

Two or three months after his marriage, Mr. Nokes 
had given up his situation in the company’s office and 
removed to Lima, where he joined the family of his 
father-in-law. Don Francisco Lopez was the owner 
of a large sugar estate in the Chillon valley near by, and 
the young extrangero was placed in charge of the books 
as an assistant in the management of the business. 

*95 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


I 96 

Mr. Sloat, the clerk whose place Mr. Juniper had 
temporarily obtained, did not return from his vacation 
until more than eight months had elapsed. Before 
Mr. Sloat’s arrival in May, Mr. Juniper had made an 
engagement at Lima in the house of Hayner & Co., 
lumber dealers, and on the ist of June he removed 
thither, and began his new duties with an increased 
salary. Mr. Steele objected to his departure, and 
offered him a permanent position in the company’s 
office, but the arrangement had already been closed 
in Lima. 

At Lima his quarters were much more comfortable 
than those he occupied in Callao. Six young men 
had clubbed together and rented a house in the Calle 
Cadiz, where they lived as one family, with a cook, 
mayoT-domo, and an assistant, and Mr. Juniper was 
fortunate enough to secure the place of one of the 
members who was leaving the city for an hcbcienda in 
the north. 

The hotels of Lima were poorly furnished and badly 
managed, and the boarding-house as it is known in the 
United States, or t\\Q pension of Europe, was not to be 
found in Lima. A young man of respectability was 
compelled to take a house and keep up his own 
establishment, in order to secure the comforts of a 
home. 

Housekeeping was conducted on a different system 
from that which obtains in Europe or the United 
States. Every family or household maintained at least 
three serv^ants, a mayor-domo or steward, a cook, and 
chambermaid or mozo to attend to the beds and rooms. 
In large families these were increased by the addition 
of a nurse for each child, maids for the ladies, coach- 
men, porters, and others, sometimes to the number of 
twenty-five. 

All the domestic arrangements were in charge of the 
mayor-domo, who hired the other servants, looked after 
them, attended to the table, and officiated generally as 


A CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY 


197 


the housekeeper. All the purchases for the kitchen 
were made by the cook, who went to market in tlie 
morning, and returned with all the supplies needed 
for the day. The mistress of the house was entirely 
relieved of responsibility, even in time of illness, Jbr 
eveiy part of tlie domestic machinery was in charg(3 
of a servant. Everything was planned to secure- the 
greatest degree of ease and comfort to the master and 
mistress of the family. 

“ The Mess,” as it was called, was under the manage- 
ment of Mr. Niklowski, a Pole, who was principal clei k 
in the house of Lake, Stone & Co. Mr. Niklowski was 
about thirty years old, and spoke with equal fluency 
English, French, German, Spanish, and Italian. The 
next in point of seniority was Mr. Bloss, an Oxford 
man, who had been educated for the Church, but at 
the last moment changed his mind and went in for 
a commercial career. He had powerful friends . at 
home, and although only twenty-six, was assistant - 
manager of the rival house of Runnion, Cox & Co. 
The third was a modest young man named Gray, from 
]\[anchester, apprenticed to the house of Tracy Bros. 
& Co. ; and the next, Mr. Booker, of the house of 
Beaumont, Booker & Co., and a relative of one of the 
firm ; while the fifth was Mr. Bly, a junior clerk in an 
insurance office, serving a three years’ apprenticeship. 

Each of the young men had a separate room, while 
the sala and comedor were used in common. Mr. Juni- 
]oer’s room opened on the patio, with abundance of 
light and air. It was well carpeted, and furnished 
with a brass bedstead, a large mirror, two or three 
wardrobes, several marble-topped tables, and five or 
six chairs. 

The establishment of Hayner & Co. covered half a 
block. A line of railroad track extended down the 
middle, so that lumber from the ships at Callao could 
be transfeiTed from the car directly to the place where 
it was stored. The only roof was a thin covering of 


198 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


canes, which simply excluded the rays of the sun, but 
as the rain never fell, this was all that was necessary. 
Piles of Oregon pine covered the ground, embracing 
the various sizes used in building and finisliing the 
interior of houses and shops. In the front there were 
planing and matching machines, and the different kinds 
of saws for cutting up the lumber, with a department 
for the carpenters and joiners, who finislied the doors, 
windows, and frames, as well as stairs and general 
woodwork. 

It was a pleasant change for Mr. Juniper to find 
himself again in an atmosphere where the smell of 
the pine was the prevailing odour, and the shavings 
from the surfacer and the pine-dust from the saws all 
reminded him of his former life in Wisconsin. The 
coarse, heavy pine from Oregon lacked the soft deli- 
cate fibre of the white pine that he had been accus- 
tomed to, but the lumber and machinery all touched a 
familiar chord in his memory. 

His work was in the office, where he took a position 
at the desk near the manager. In a few weeks he 
liad learned the routine of the business, so that his 
duties became intelligible to him, and his constant 
efforts to master the details and intricacies of the trade 
were rewarded by a facility of action that soon made 
him an invaluable assistant. 

On Wednesday night of the second week after his 
removal to Lima he experienced a new sensation. 
He had retired about ten o’clock, and, exhausted with 
the labours of the day, he slept soundly. About 
half-past twelve he was rudely awakened by a strange 
buzzing noise, like the hum of the planing-machine 
in the shop of Hayner & Co., and his first impression 
was that he was dreaming of the work on the machines. 
But at the same instant the house shook violently, 
as if a locomotive had run into one side of it. The 
sides of the building seemed to tvemble, the roof moved 
so that the timbers creaked, the dust fell on his face, and 


A CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY 1 99 

a framed pliotograpli of his mother that was lianging 
upon tlie wall was thrown to the floor, breaking the 
glass. He sprang from the bed, lighted a candle, and 
was about to dress himself, when he found that the 
commotion had subsided ; but in an instant the same 
phenomena were repeated with greater intensity, and 
the weird moaning sound was so loud that it almost 
stopped the beating of his pulse. He could hear 
sounds as of chairs being overturned and furniture 
knocking about in the other rooms, and even the bell 
in the patio outside began to ring ; but the noise finally 
ceased and all was calm. Then in the still night air 
came the sweet sound of the church-bells of San 
Pedro, pealing a thanksgiving for happy deliverance 
from the earthquake, and then another church set its 
bell tolling, and soon from every quarter of the city 
the sound of the bells made the night alive with 
their music. 

Mr. Bloss came rushing into the room, clad in his 
bath-robe, to see if any damage had been done. Mr. 
Bloss and Mr. Gray had rushed from their room 
to the patio as soon as the first shock of the earth- 
quake was felt, and stood there to avoid the danger 
of falling walls. 

“Always get into the patio if you can,” said Mr. 
Bloss, “ for there you are safe. If the roof tumbles 
down on you, you’re a dead duck.” 

“ But you don’t think there’s any danger, do you ? ” 
asked Mr. Juniper. 

“Tliere’s no telling anything about it. We can 
expect a serious earthquake at any time, and yet it 
may not come for years. Callao was completely de- 
stroyed by an earthquake in the last century, and Lima 
has had several severe shocks since then.” 

They both went to the balcony looking into the 
street, and found the people of the neighbourhood 
just recovering from their fright. Many of the Peru- 
vians habitually rush into the streets at the first sound 


200 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


of the earthquake, and if it comes in tlie night, they 
do not stop to dress, but rush out in their night-clothes. 
A few women were to be seen by the gasliglit still 
kneeling pn the side-walk, rosary in hand, saying their 
prayers, but in ten minutes the church-bells had ceased, 
the people had retired, and all was still again. 

Thei’e had been light shocks of the earthquake 
before, but they had come in the daytime, when other 
noises helped to modify the sound, but this was the 
first one he had experienced in its intensity, and he 
was afterwards told that it was the most severe that 
had been known in ten years. Still no one had been 
injured, and a slight cracking of some of the walls was 
the greatest damage reported. 

When Mr. Juniper had become fairly settled in his 
new home, and had his work at the office well in hand, 
he began to enjoy his surroundings much better than 
when he lived in Callao. Lima was a much larger 
city, having a population of about a hundred and 
fifty thousand. While there was an air of commercial 
activity about it. and the old-fashioned shops around 
the Plaza seemed crowded with purchasers until after 
ten o'clock at night, yet among the residences there 
was eveiy sign of dignified quiet and easy-going luxu- 
riousness of living that distinguished it from an 
American city, while the old churclies a])peared as if 
they had been removed bodily from Europe, so un- 
American were they, and so quaint in their old Spanish 
architecture, combining the Moorish effect with the 
Italian ideas of the seventeenth century. 

Mrs. Nokes was the only lady with whom he was 
intimately acquainted. Mr. Nokes had frequently in- 
vited him to dine, and at the hospitable table of Senor 
Lopez he had always been kindly treated. Tl^e three 
sisters of Mrs. Nokes were beautiful girls, with the 
regulation dark eyes, coal-black hair, olive complexion, 
and rudd}^ lips of the Peruvian beauties. They eyed 
the young gringo across the table as if desirous of 


A CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY 


201 


cultivating his acquaintance, but his defective Spanish 
prevented any very close acquaintance. Mrs. Nokes 
had learned from her husband enough English to carry 
on a limited conversation with the aid of Mr. Juniper’s 
Si)anish, so they contrived to become very good friends. 

The manners of the Peruvian ladies, and especially 
of the sefioritas, were excellent. On the street, no lady 
of whatever age appeared alone. A female servant was 
the constant compaiuon of every one who ventured 
away from her own home, unless accompanied by her 
mother or other female relative, and it was not quite 
good form for two young ladies to appear on the street 
together, unless in charge of the mother or the faithful 
nurse. In walking on the street on the way to church 
or to make visits, the ladies invariably walked with 
downcast eyes and the most perfect decorum. 

To attend mass in the morning was the urgent duty 
of every lady. The streets at certain hours were 
thronged with ladies, prayer-book in hand, going to 
or returning from the churches, clad in a black gown 
and the ever-present manta. 

Mr. Bly, the insurance clerk, seemed desirous of 
cultivating Mr. Juniper’s acquaintance. Mr. Bly was 
a tall, bony young man, with an immense head of 
yellow hair. He was almost twenty-two years of age, 
and had been educated at Christ’s Hospital, London. 
Whether it was the habit acquired at the Bluecoat 
School, or the effect of the Peruvian weather, the 
record does not state, but Mr. Bly was never known 
to wear a hat or cap, except when compelled to do so 
in going into the streets. 

One evening after dinner Mr. Bly dropped into Mr. 
Juniper’s room, as he had been in the habit of doing 
occasionally for several weeks previous. At the end 
of ten minutes’ conversation, Mr. Bly invited his friend 
Mr. Juniper to go with him to call upon some young 
ladies, the Senoritas Sancochado. 

At first the young man from the North was inclined 


202 


THK MAX FROM OSHKOSil 


to refuse, but lie at leiigtli decided to go, and the two 
young men started, after arraying themselves in Prince 
Albert coat and light-coloured trousers, with silk hat, 
gloves, and cane. The sehoritas lived in the Calle 
Madrid. A long narrow parlour on the ground-floor, 
opening immediately from the paved 'palio, was lighted 
by a large crystal chandelier. The furniture con- 
sisted of two sofas and twenty-four chairs, all con- 
cealed, except in outline, by white linen covers, a 
Trench piano, a marble-top])ed table in the centre of 
the room, two or three small stands containing hric-d- 
hrac, half-a-dozen French engravings in gilt frames, 
and two or three large mirrors, also heavily framed in 
gilt. On a cabinet was a collection of ancient pottery 
from the Inca tombs. In front of one of the sofas 
on the French carpet was a beautiful yellowish-brown 
vicitm rug, and surrounding the rug on two sides was 
a row of chairs, forming a i;arallelogram, with the rug 
in the centre, and seats on three sides of it. The other 
chairs -were regularly arranged around the four sides 
of t]ie room at equal distances apart. The walls were 
]mpt'red with a light gilt paper, which set off the 
engravings to good advantage. A small cabinet held 
a collection of Peruvian huacos. 

A coloured servant, evidently a cliola, answered the 
bell, took the cards, and showed the visitors to seats. 
In a few minutes, Sehora Sancochado entered the 
room, followed by two of her daughters. The sehora 
was sliort. fat, and good-natured. Her forty-five years 
had added to her weight, and her twelve children had 
increased her responsibilities, but she was always 
liappy, always devout and attentive to her church 
duties, and always hospitably inclined towards visitors. 
Slie greeted Mr. Bly very cordially, and met Mr. 
Juniper with a motherly welcome that made him feel 
quite at home. ]\Ir. Juniper was presented to the 
Senorita Sancochado, and then to her sister Sara. The 
two girls were as nearly alike as two beans. Each 


i 


A CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY 


203 


had the usual complexion, the stated eyes and hair, 
regular features, and pouting red lips that looked as 
though they wanted to be kissed, and each wore a 
bright-coloured gown and crinoline, with chignon, and 
each carried a fan of the same colour as her frock, and 
each gave out an odour of some very strong perfume. 

The mother took her seat at the end of the sofa in 
the quadrilateral, and placed the two young men beside 
her, while the sehoritas sat bolt u])right on the chairs 
in front. The sehora could speak no JOnglisli, but the 
young ladies had learned the language in tlie convent 
of San Pedro, and their good-natured efforts to carry 
on a conversation with the young men were quite 
amusing. Both were sprightly and vivacious, with 
soft musical voices, and when the large, liquid, lan- 
guishing dark eyes of the Sehoiita Sancochado were 
turned upon Mr. Juniper, he moved uneasily in his 
seat, as if he were subjected to some mystic influence 
he could not describe. 

During the visit, Mr. Juniper observed that the 
ladies appeared somewhat restless and moved uneasily 
in their seats, and at times the impression began to 
dawn upon him that they were afflicted with a cuta- 
neous disturbance. Before he had been i]i tlie icom 
fifteen minutes, however, he began to expeiience se me 
of the symptoms himself, and it was with the utmost 
difficulty that he could control his actions. Demons 
seemed to be persecuting him along his spinal column, 
and then his arms had a feeling as if they were im- 
mersed in a bed of thorns, wdien the unseen enemy 
changed his tactics and appeared to execute a Hank 
movement, evidently bound to didve him to des- 
peration. 

It was afterwards explained to him as an invasion 
by the minute insect knowni as the an insect 

which makes life a burden to the sti anger in Peru. 
No age or rank or condition and neither sex is (X'empt 
from its attacks. It is well knowm that a sala or any 


f 


204 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


room which is little used becomes thoroughly alive 
with these pestiferous animals, and the ingenuity of 
man has never yet discovered an absolute remedy for 
their attacks. 

It is true that in some of the shops you will be 
offered something with a Spanish name which is 
declared to be a perfect trap for the 'pidga. Mr. 
Juniper had suffered from the ravages' of the animal, 
and he was once induced to try the joidga trap, but he 
found that it was nothing but a piece of woollen cloth 
in which the animals were expected to hide, but a 
trial proved its absolute inefficiency. 

“I am sorry you cannot see my eldest daughter,” 
said the senora. She is married and lives at Pacas- 
mayo, where her husband has an hacienda. She came 
down last month, and she will stay here until she has 
her baby. She has gone out this evening with her 
husband to visit her cousin.” 

At the end of half an hour the visit terminated, and 
the young men retired, with a kind invitation from 
the mother to call again. 

A week later, the two Prince Albert coats and silk 
hats were again produced, and again the door-bell rang 
at the Sancochado residence in Calle ;\Iadrid. In less 
than a month ]\Lr. Juniper ventured to call alone, for 
Mr. Bly was busy at the office, and it was not long 
after that he called twice in a single week. Always 
he was met by the matronly senora, who showed him 
to the seat beside her on the sofa ; always the charm- 
ing daughters seated themselves on the row of chairs 
directly opposite ; always the elder senorita beamed on 
him with the luminous dark eyes ; always the most 
perfect decorum mingled with kindly interchange of 
lively feeling, and always the visit ended with regret 
on the part of the visitor that it -was so short. 

It was the sixth week after he had made his first 
visit. He called without his friend Mr. Bly, and was 
shown to a chair as usual. The senora entered the 


A CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY 


205 


sala according to her custom, but the senoritas did not 
accompany her. There was a troubled expression on 
the kind, fat face that j\Ir. Juniper could not exactly 
comprehend. Immediately behind her walked Senor 
Sancochado, whom Mr. Juniper had never met. He 
was a tall, swarthy Peruvian, with gold eye-glasses and 
distinguished presence. The sefiora made the intro- 
duction and motioned Mr. Juniper to his usual seat 
on the sofa, and then abruptly left the room. Senor 
Sancochado took the seat beside his guest, with a 
great deal of polite motioning, and chatted for a few 
minutes, partly in English, spoken with studied effort, 
and partly in Spanish, which seemed to drop out of its 
own accord and tangle itself with the English. 

At length the subject that was evidently on his 
mind came out. He straightened himself in his seat 
and began : — 

“ Meester Juniper, you haf came to my house many 
times to see my hija, my daughter. I spick vary leetle 
Inglese, but ye pregunto — I ask you d decir me — I wish 
you to tell me your intencion — what you mean. Do 
you want to marry my daughter ? ” 

If another earthquake had split open the earth in 
front of him, our young American would not have been 
more astonished, and when he tried to explain his 
position, his tongue seemed dry and gummed to his 
palate, and he began to wish that another earthquake 
reall}" would come and swallow him up, and thus get 
him out of his predicament. Senor Sancochado was 
extremely polite, and as kind in his manner as if Mr. 
Juniper had conferred a great favour on him and his 
family, and yet it was plain that he wanted the un- 
certainty cleared up. The ladies, too, were evidently 
sincere in their kindness to him, but suddenly the idea 
flashed across his mind that he had run counter to a 
custom of the country which was new to him. 

In a minute or two he found his speech. With a 
crimson flush reaching from his collar to the roots of 


2o6 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


his hair, he explained to Sefior Sancochado that while 
he had the greatest admiration for the sehorita and 
her sister, and res])ected the sehora deepW, because she 
reminded him so mnch of his own motlier. and he 
greatly enjoyed a \isit with them all, yet his circum- 
stances would not permit him to marry, and, as his 
visits were liable to be misunderstood, he would not 
coine again, but he asked pardon of the sehor and his 
family for lia^•ing caused them annoyance, but trusted 
that his ignorance of the customs of the country would 
excuse Inm ir he had been guilty of any impropriety. 

Senor Sancochado listened attentively to what he 
said, and was a'p]rarentiy translating the words into 
Spanish, and when he had concluded, the sefior sud- 
denly jumped up, took him by the hand, and then put 
his arms around the young man and gave him the 
Spanish embrace, one arm over the shoulder and the 
otlier hand patting him on the small of the back. 

The sehor seemed fully as much relieved by the 
explanation as ^Ir. Juniper was. He thanked the 
young man for his honourable explanation, and invited 
him to his room, the back-parlour, to play a game of 
rocamhor. Air. Juniper pleaded ignorance of the game, 
and then the sehor called a servant, who reappeared 
in a moment with a tray of glasses and a decanter 
of port, and paterfamilias insisted on a drink. Tliis 
ended, the sehora made her appearance again, and Air. 
Juniper, in his best Spanish, renewed his apologies. 
She shook his hand warmly, and he parted with the 
good people, deeply impressed with, their politeness 
and sincerity, and his memoiy enlarged by another 
lesson in the customs of the country. 

As he walked along the Calle Aladrid, in spite of 
the evident kindness of the Sancochados, he felt as 
if he had received a severe blow in the face. How 
fortunate that the father had called him to account ! 
AVhat were his intentions toward the young lady, any 
way ? AVhy should he show such marked attention to 


A CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY 


207 


the girl ? What was he thinking of to get so interested 
in her ? It was perfectly proper for the father to 
watch over the daughter, and he was glad that his eyes 
had been opened and the thing was ended, but he felt a 
sudden twinge of disappointment when he remembered 
that he was now stopped from calling at the house, 
and the pleasant visits that he had been looking for- 
ward to so eagerly for the past three or four weeks 
were now to cease for ever. 

The truth is, that, with all his strength of mind, when 
it came to the young ladies he was a very impression- 
able young man. The sight of a pretty face always 
had a great interest to him, and in this city of beau- 
tiful women, his msthetic soul was continually stirred 
to its uttermost depths in distant admiration of the 
sparkling eyes and classic features that perpetually 
haunted his visioti. The same impulse that caused 
him to admire a beautiful flower, or a gorgeous sunset, 
or a little child induced him to adore a handsome 
woman, and in a companj^ of men and women, his eyes 
instinctively and unconsciously settled upon the most 
attractive, as naturall}^ as the magnetic needle points 
to the pole. 

And yet in his heart an ideal still existed in its per- 
fection as it was found in the woods of Wisconsin 
many months before. 


CHAPTER XXI 

HE SKATES ON VERY THIN ICE 

Mr. Juniper told Mrs. Nokes all about the Sancochado 
incident. The lady was surprised, but with true sisterly 
affection she pointed out to the young man that his 
marked attention to the young lady was highly im- 
proper, and that Sefior Sancochado had acted perfectly 
right in demanding an explanation. 

From the conversation he learned that among the 
Peruvian families a young gentleman is never permitted 
to see a young lady alone. The senoritas invariably 
received the young gentlemen in the company of the 
mother, or, if the mother is not living, the grandmother 
or aunt acts in her stead. If the young gentleman 
desires to invite the young lady to the opera or concert, 
he must always include in his invitation the mother 
and as many of her sisters as are in society. The code 
of rules governing the social intercourse of the sexes is 
based on the theory that the young girl is a blossom 
too delicate and fragile to be carelessly exposed to the 
rude wind of the public, and every restriction is thrown 
about her to maintain the purity and innocence of her 
mind and the absolute integrity of her associations. 
She must never recognise a male acquaintance when 
she meets him in the street until he takes off his 
hat to her first, and all loud conversation, laughter, or 
boisterous conduct among ladies is strictly forbidden. 
Even after betrothal a young gentleman is not per- 
mitted to visit his fiancee except in the presence of her 
mother. 


HE SKATES ON VERY THIN ICE 209 

He pondered deeply over these regulations, which 
seemed so different from the unconventional and un- 
restricted conditions at home, where every one was 
trusted, and the social life of men and women was as 
free and natural as that of children. His rebuke at 
the hands of Sehor Sancochado had taught him a 
salutary lesson that he determined not to forget, but 
events proved that his memory was defective in its 
operation. 

Every Sunday morning the church of San Pedro was 
crowded. On the left of the main aisle the men were 
seated, each in a suit of black, and the mugeres were on 
the right, with black gown and manta, for a woman is 
not allowed to enter a church wearing a bonnet or hat. 
The view of so many people all in black was very im- 
pressive to the visitor, and with the beautiful altar 
illuminated with hundreds of long candles, the priest 
in his robe of fine linen and gold ornamentation, the 
high ceiling tinted a light blue, supported here and 
there with graceful columns, the life-size figures of 
Christ and the saints at intervals along the sides, with 
one or two original paintings by Murillo on the walls, 
one could not help admiring the interior; and when 
the low, sweet-toned organ in the distant choir broke 
out in an offertory, the notes seemed to fill the whole 
air, floating dreamily in space, as if the music was an 
actual_, tangible substance that was confined within the 
walls, like the cloud of incense which rose above the 
altar ; and as the voices of the men and boys chanted 
the service in an agreeable tenor, exactly harmonising 
with the music of the organ, the whole effect was 
satisfying to the senses, and Mr. J uniper could readily 
understand how it was that a system of worship which 
so strongly appealed to the eye and the ear had secured 
such a powerful hold upon the simple-minded Indian 
and the descendants of Pizarro. 

But it was not the interior of the churches that was 
the most attractive to the visitor. On Sunday morning 

0 


210 


THE MAN PROM OSHKOSH 


and on feast-days it had long been a custom of the 
young men to form in line at the door of the church to 
stare at the sehoritas as they came out, and even the 
principal thoroughfare, the Calle Mercaderes, and the 
two Portals, were always ornamented with an expectant 
row of youths, with cane in hand, watching the long 
procession of pretty girls on their way from cluirch. 
This custom had become so firmly established that tlie 
senoritas were said to look forward to the walk to 
church and the return after mass as a sort of diversion ; 
and if the gauntlet of masculine admirers was deficient 
in numbers, the young ladies were disappointed. In 
olden times it was said that on occasions of this kind 
it was the custom of the young men to ejaculate '' Que 
bonita ! ” at the sight of a pretty face, and the sehorita 
who passed a crowd of the young men without hearing 
the flattering expression went home with a feeling that 
her attractiveness was going into a decline. 

Not that the young ladies ever gave any sign that 
these impertinent manifestations were agreeable. On 
the contrary, they invariably looked at the side-walks 
or straight ahead, and their conduct on the street was 
always the most exemplary. But it is to be presumed 
that the love of admiration which is so natural to the 
feminine heart was innocently gratified by these demon- 
strations, and a habit was established which could never 
have been permitted under circumstances where the 
relations of the sexes were more unrestrained. 

In walking about the city on Sunday afternoon or 
on one of the numerous feast-days, when all labour was 
suspended, another custom of the young ladies was 
noticed which seemed very singular to Mr. Juniper. 
At the balconies in the second storey of the houses, 
crowds of young ladies in afternoon-dress were always 
to be seen, looking down upon the people passing in the 
street below, and whenever a gentleman went by who 
was acquainted with the family, he politely raised his 
hat, and the senoritas returned the salute with a plea- 


HE SKATES ON VERY THIN ICE 


21 I 


sant smile. Scarcely a block was passed which did not 
present two or more of these groups, and it was easy to 
be seen that the best families countenanced the custom. 
Tn many instances, the railing of the balcony was up- 
holstered with a beautiful vicuna rug, or a bright red 
sofa-pillow to make it comfortable for the young ladies 
in their long watch. Thus a promenade on the narrow 
side-walks was enlivened by the sight of whole batteries 
of bright eyes, and the casual visitor of an afternoon 
could see more of the beauty of Lima from the street 
than he would encounter in the ordinary way in a year. 

There was a house on the Calle Seville that Mr. Juni- 
per passed on his way from his home to the office. At 
the balcony he had frequently noticed the two young 
ladies of the family, and it was not long before he 
• thought they observed him with more than friendly 
eyes. They were never absent from the balcony on Sun- 
day afternoon, and many times he had noticed them there 
during the week. They had the usual characteristics of 
the Lima beauties, coal-black eyes and hair, delicately 
tinted complexions, full busts, and exquisitely rounded 
arms and shoulders. One afternoon, it was the feast-day 
of one of the saints, and he wore his silk hat and carried 
a cane, the elder of the two girls followed him with her 
full dark eyes until he was directly opposite, and then 
her features broke out in a smile and she bowed unmis- 
takably. He returned the salutation, but walked on 
with his mind in a maze. It was the only time that he 
had ever noticed anything in their conduct that was not 
strictly and sedately proper. When he considered the 
uniformly correct manners of the young ladies, the ex- 
ception struck him with all the greater surprise, and he 
resolved to ask iMrs. Nokes about it. 

He proceeded in his walk to the Plaza. Crowds of 
people in black were coming out of the cathedral, and 
the old bell was tolling rapidly for the afternoon ser- 
vice that begins at three o’clock. He passed up the Calle 
Judios and bent his steps toward the Plaza de Inqui- 


2 12 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


sicion. As he came np the street, a carriage drove 
across from the direction of the market. Me noticed 
casually that the little sign Occvpado'' was displayed, 
and that it was Xo. 91 ; and as he looked at it, the 
driver turned in his seat as if some one had called 
liiin, and then pulled up the horses and stopped the 
coach just at the corner where Mr. Juniper was about 
to cross to the Plaza. At once the door of the carriage 
partially opened, and some one beckoned to him. He 
went to the door, and was surprised to see a very hand- 
some young woman on the seat within. She wore a 
broad red hat trimmed with a red pluiue, and a red 
gown and gloves, and had a red parasol in her hand : 
and he noticed that the perfumery that she used was 
very strong. He had never seen her before. She smiled 
on him with an expressive look that he could not under- 
stand, and with a low voice, and in the most insinuating 
manner, said — 

Venga a mi casa, a la noche, no ? ” 

‘‘ Por donde esta ? ” 

“ En la Calle Carpinteros, Xumero Ciento-quarenta- 
einco.” 

‘‘ Voy a ver.” 

“ Hasta luego.” 

And then the carriage drove on to the corner of 
lh(‘ Calle San Francisco, and turned down towards the 
(’aihedral. 

Mr. Juniper drew a long breath and furtively looked 
p.vound to see if any one was watching. Coming along 
l!ie marble pavement of the Inquisicion Plaza were two 
Peruvian ladies, and as he passed them his face was 
Hushed as if he had the scarlet fever. He was quite 
sure the ladies must know all about it, and as he sank 
into one of the seats he felt the perspiration gather on 
his forehead, and his throat became parched and his 
lips dry as with fever. His head seemed in a whirl, 
and for the time he forgot where he was, and as he 
thought of what had just happened, he could scarcely 


HE SKATES ON VERY THIN ICE 21 3 

believe his own recollection. The more he considered 
it, the more confused he was. 

The young woman had invited him to visit her. With 
the strict ideas of propriety prevailing in Lima among 
the ladies, and especially the sehoritas, her act was open 
to but one construction, and he shuddered as he thought 
of it. When he asked where she lived, he did it from 
simple curiosity, and without the slightest thought of 
accepting her invitation ; and when he said, “ I will see,” 
it was with the firm resolve not to go. 

Still she was very attractive. Her features were 
regular, and her mouth luscious, with red lips and the 
whitest of small teeth, and her dark eyes as seen from 
the carriage reminded him of an opening in a shutter 
which admits a ray of sunshine in a dark room, a 
metallic gleam reaching to every object within range. 
As well as he could judge, she was about twenty, and 
from her manner and appearance accustomed to good 
surroundings. 

Perhaps he might at least see her. There was no- 
thing wrong in calling on her, as she had invited him. 

Then the thought of Celia struck him as an electric 
shock. He sprang from the seat like a lunatic, and 
walked hastily down towards the cathedral. 

And he said to himself — for he was a man — ‘‘ This is 
life, this is sin, this is temptation. I will conquer it.” 

The palm of his right hand began to bleed slightly 
where he had dug his nails into it. He determined to 
control himself, and in his energy he doubled his fingers 
closely together, and walked along with rapid strides, 
his fists closed as if in anger, and his arms violently 
gesticulating'as he walked. 

When he reached the Plaza, the cool breeze from the 
sea fanned his forehead, and he dried his face with his 
handkerchief. He stopped for a moment, undecided as 
to where he should go, and then walked slowly across 
towards Calle Mercaderes. 

On the corner, near the Portal, stood a policeman 


214 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


holding a gun in his hand. Moved by a momentary 
impulse, he asked the officer in Spanish — 

“ Where is Calle Carpinteros ? ” 

He had to repeat the question before the intelligent 
cliolo could understand. Then he was told to go so 
many cuadros in that direction, and then turn to the 
left and go three mmiros more. 

He was out for a walk, and he might as well go in 
that direction as anywhere ; so he sauntered on, trying 
to convince himself that he had entirely conquered the 
temptation, and now he only wanted to see what kind 
of a street Carpinteros might be. It was a holiday, and 
few people were in the streets then as he walked slowly 
along in the direction indicated by the policeman. 

On the corner about where he expected to find it 
was a drug-store, a small one-storey building with the 
sign, Botica de Carpinteros,” and his pulse quick- 
ened as he recognised it. Beyond, on either side, was 
a block of one-storey buildings reaching to the next 
corner. The front of each of the houses was exactly 
alike. Each had a reja or barred window on either side, 
and in the middle was a door situated ten or twelve 
feet back from the street. Every window was closed 
with a white blind, and the door of each had a small 
window which was covered with a white curtain. 

He found that the odd numbers were on the opposite 
side, so he crossed over from the drug-store and walked 
slowdy along until he passed No. 145, which was near 
the middle of the block. It was precisely like all 
the others, with the door inside a passage-way paved 
with small stones and a reja on each side. When he 
reached the corner, he decided to return by the same 
street, and as he walked back, he began unconsciously 
to count the doors in the block. He found that there 
were just twenty-five, and No. 145, painted in small 
blue figures on a tin sign, was exactly in the middle, 
with twelve doors on either side. He could not tell 
why he had counted the doors. Some operation of the 


HE SKATES ON VERY THIN ICE 21 5 

mind had started it quite indepeiideully of the will, 
and he had completed it just as he had often counted 
the steps going upstairs, or when he was a boy at 
Oshkosh he counted the fence-posts on his way to 
scliool. 

He walked back to the Plaza, pleased that he had 
overcome the temptation, and yet entirely unable to 
keep his thoughts from the event of the afternoon. Who 
was the young woman ? Evidently she liked his ap- 
pearance. When he arrived in front of a hat-store on 
the Calle Espaderos,he looked in a mirror in the window, 
and for the first time in many months gazed attentively 
at his own reflection. With his silk hat and black 
coat, he admitted to himself that he was not really 
plain-looking, and as he curled liis black moustache, he 
thought that he was dark enough to be taken for a 
I’eruvian. Perhaps the young woman had mistaken 
him for an acqu dntance or a relative, and possibly he 
had worked himself into a commotion for nothing. He 
laughed and started for his home in t,he Calle Cadiz. 

As he moved along the street, he found himself 
wondering if it was the young woman’s corset that 
made her look so in front, and then, before he could 
control his wandering thoughts, he began to conjecture 
if her stockings were red, to correspond with the colour 
of her frock and gloves. He knew so little about the 
other sex, and had thought so little about any other 
woman besides Celia and his mother, that this sudden 
irru])tion of a woman’s presence into the even tenor of 
his life disturbed him like an infectious disease. He 
rushed up the stairs, hurried to his own room, and 
threw himself upon the bed, where he covered his eyes 
with his hands, and tried to shut out the images that 
were continually rising before his sight. 

When dinner was announced, he seated himself at 
the table next to IVlr. Ely, but after the soup and fish, 
he excused himself on the plea of illness, for he could 
eat nothing, and when he returned to his room, he 


2i6 


^JlIE MAN FR0:M OSHKOSH 


actually felt sick. His pulse was liigli and his head 
hot. He attempted to read, but on the page of 
Macaulay’s Essays, two round yellow spots appeared 
which obscured the letters, and before he realised it 
the round yellow spots grew into a pair of dark eyes 
which glistened and sparkled, and then appeared the 
outline of a red hat with a red plume, then a red gown, 
very full in front, and a pair of red sleeves, and he 
threw aside the book in disgust. He walked the floor 
for half an hour, trying to repeat some of the theorems 
in geometry he had learned at school, “ all the angles 
which can be found on one side of a straight line — 
but his mental machinery was running wild, and he 
could not bring it under control. 

AYhen the clock struck eight, he took his hat and 
cane, and went into the street in the hope that the cool 
night air might (piiet his nerves. The gaslights in the 
Plaza shimmered with a yellowish liaze in the damp- 
ness, and the narrow side-walks were wet with the 
mist that had begun to fall. Before he realised what 
he was doing, he was in front of the Botica de Car- 
pin teros, and then lie was counting again as he passed 
the doors on the street. There was a gaslight at either 
side of the block, but twenty feet away from the corner 
all was darkness. Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, and 
unconsciously he stopped, and almost without knowing 
it, he walked into the passage-way. A light was burn- 
ing behind the white curtain, and he stepped forward 
like a man in a state of somnambulism and tapped 
gently with his cane at the bottom of the door. He 
could hear a regular thumping noise, like the sound of 
a loom or some piece of machinery in operation, and 
he had just time to decide that it was the beating of 
his heart, when the door opened wide enough to allow 
the woman within to look out. She was a Peruvian, 
as he could tell by her eyes, and she wore a brown 
wrapper loose at the waist. 

“ Estci la senorita aqui ? ” he asked. 


HE SKATES ON VERY THIN ICE 


217 

** Que senorita ? ” 

He was puzzled. Her name was -unknown to him, 
and the woman evidently looked at him with suspicion. 
Shame and fear overcame him completely. He muttered 
something to the woman by way of apology, and crept 
out into the friendly darkness. 

The revulsion in his feelings was exquisitely delight- 
ful. He had exposed himself to the temptation clear 
to the point of danger, almost against his will, it is 
true, but he had been saved. His delirium was gone. 
As he walked directly back to his home, tears gathered 
in his eyes, and before he retired he thanked God from 
the depths of his heart that he had somehow passed 
through the ordeal unscathed. 

But a cheerful temperament and the natural inex- 
perience of a young man made him susceptible to sinister 
influences. A kitten plays with fire until its paws are 
burned, and then it is cured. The average young man 
has but little more sense than a kitten in exposing 
himself to the flames, and he often lacks the instinct 
of the kitten to profit by his experience, and avoid the 
fire after his eyes are opened to the danger. He gene- 
rally took his walks alone. In the companionship of 
his own thoughts he derived more pleasure than from 
that of the young men with whom he was associated. 
Once when he was walking towards the old stone bridge 
with Mr. Booker, he began to talk about books and 
reading. He had read something in Buskin’s “ Sesame 
and Lilies,” which he quoted, but it was lost on Mr. 
Booker, whose mind was full of the Derby and the bet 
he had made on the sweepstakes. 

“ Who is this Buskin ? ” said he in his slow, drawling 
manner. “ Is he — er — an American writer ? ” 

So Mr. Juniper was forced to talk about the races, and 
the price of guano stocks, and the next game of cricket. 

One Sunday afternoon he was walking in the Alameda. 
The band was playing, and the long sanded promenade 
was filled with gaily-dressed people. As he went past 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


2 I 8 

the statuary and the great rows of blue and white 
flowers down towards the fountain, he noticed two 
young ladies, with their mother, seated on one of the 
marble benches. On near approach, he discovered that 
they were the sehoritas he had noticed so often at the 
balcony in the Calle Seville. They wore gowns of a 
light salmon colour, with large crinoline, hats of the 
same shade, and carried parasols to match. He kept 
his eyes away from them as he passed, and, after gazing 
at the fountain a few minutes, he started to return, 
and then seated himself for a while to listen to the 
music. As he looked up, he found that the three 
ladies were sitting directly opposite. The senorita 
nodded to him, and then, in a moment, he could see 
that she was slyly marking in the sand with the end 
of her parasol. She looked at him in a mischievous 
way, and then the three ladies arose and moved slowly 
out of the garden. 

He could not resist the temptation of looking at the 
sand where she had been sitting, and in five minutes 
he had walked to the fountain again, and then seated 
himself on the stone bench. After a respectable inter- 
val he let his eyes fall to the sand, where he read the 
word “ Venga'' 

Here was another invitation thrown out to follow an 
unknown siren, but this time he was firm. He remained 
seated for half an hour to enable the party to get out 
of the way, and then he arose and walked directly home. 
He was to dine that evening with Mr. and Mrs. Nokes 
at the Lopez residence, and the preparation of his toilet 
served to drive tlie subject from his mind. 

After tiie dinner he asked Mrs. JSTokes — 

“ Who is it that lives in the altos of the second house 
from the corner as you go up the Calle Seville, on the 
left-hand side ? Two young ladies and their mother.” 

Mrs. Nokes reflected a moment. 

" La I’az — Yiuda La Paz and her daughters.” 

“ Who are they ? ” 


HE SKATES ON VERY THIN ICE 


219 


“ I don’t know.” 

“ I see them nearly every day as I come down the 
stieet.” 

“ Yes, I know who you mean. The sehoritas were at 
San Pedro when I was there. The oldest, Anita, was 
a great musician. Their father has been dead many 
years, and I do not know them now. ’ 

There was something in her manner which forbade 
further conversation on the subject. 

AVhen he took his leave of Mrs. Xokes that night, 
Mr. Nokes accompanied him to the door and whispered 
to him that Mrs. Nokes wanted him to know that the 
La Paz girls were not considered good girls, and he 
must have nothing to do with them. He grasped Mr. 
Nokes warmly by the hand and thanked him for his 
kindness. 

On Wednesday evening Mr. Ely came into his room. 

“Well, Juniper, old chap,” said he, running his right 
hand through his shock of yellow hair, “ what do you 
say to making a visit on some of the senoritas ? ” 

“ Not on the Sancochado family if you please ! ” 

“ Bless my soul and body, no ! ” and he laughed 
heartily as he remembered the unfortunate outcome 
of their visit at the residence of Senor Sancochado. 

Mr. Juniper would have preferred to remain in his 
own room and finish Macaulay’s Essays, but he did not 
want to become a recluse, and if he refused all invita- 
tions to go out, he would soon be dropped entirely. So 
he consented. 

They walked down the Calle Seville, and suddenly 
Mr. Ely turned and said — 

“ Here we are ! ” 

There was a gas-light burning at the head of the 
stairs. A cliolo servant admitted them, then locked the 
door again, and showed them to seats in the sala, the 
usual long room, with two sofas and twenty-four chairs, 
all draped with white linen covers, and a cabinet with 
Inca pottery from the huacos. 


220 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


In a moment the rustle of feminine skirts could be 
heard, and as two young ladies made their appearance, 
Mr. Juniper’s heart stopped beating for an instant as 
he recognised the La Paz girls. He went through the 
formula of an introduction in a vacant manner, and 
then Anita invited them to the salita^ and they passed 
into it and were shown to seats. 

The salita was a small square room adjoining the 
said. It contained a piano, a sofa, half-a-dozen chairs, 
two or three pieces of statuary, and some pictures. The 
carpet was old, and the appearance of the furniture indi- 
cated decay and incipient poverty. Mr. Juniper was 
meditating the best way to escape. He and Mr. Bly 
were on the sofa, and the young ladies on chairs opposite. 
Again the odour of musk or some dense perfume almost 
stifled him. After the usual greetings, Mr. Juniper 
asked — 

“ Donde esta su mama ? ” 

“ Ha salido, senor ! ” said Anita, with a broad smile. 

A chill ran through him as he remembered that 
according to the Peruvian etiquette young ladies were 
never allowed to receive gentlemen alone. 

Mr. Bly asked Anita for some music. She seated 
herself at the piano, where she played one or two of 
Beethoven’s sonatas and a Spanish piece with a lively 
movement. Mr. Bly arose and began talking in a low 
voice to the sister, and before Mr. Juniper knew it, the 
two had left the room. When the Spanish piece was 
finished, Anita turned, and seeing that the others were 
gone, she thrummed a moment on the piano, and then 
arose and seated herself on the sofa by his side. 

Mr. Juniper would have given a year’s salary to be 
at home, and he resolved to settle the matter with Mr. 
Bly for getting him into such a predicament. At the 
first reasonable opportunity he would take his de- 
parture, and never again would he make a visit until 
he knew whom he was to call upon. 

Anita seemed to be an intelligent, well-bred young 


HE SKATES ON VERY THIN ICE 22 1 

lady. With his limited Spanish, it was not easy to 
carry on a conversation, for he often lacked words to 
express his ideas, and sometimes his verbs were hope- 
lessly stranded between the mood and the tense, but 
the senorita, smiling, assured him that ’he spoke the 
language '' jperfectamente” The very shyness and evi- 
dent embarrassment of his manner seemed to excite 
her to more aggressiveness, and she plied him with 
(piestions and endeavoured to draw him out. Did he 
like music ? Did he sing ? Did he play the piano ? 
Did he like to hear the piano? How did he like Lima? 
Did he think the senoritas very pretty ? Had he been 
to tlie bull-fight? Did they have bull-fights in his 
country? and didn’t he think the cathedral a very 
fine building ? 

All this time she kept her dark eyes beaming upon 
him. She wore a pink gown with a pearl brooch and 
pearls in her ears, and he began to think her rather an 
interesting girl, and perhaps people were maligning 
her, for, except for the exceeding friendliness of her 
manner, he had seen nothing wrong in her. Occa- 
sionally he ventured to glance at her, but he was 
afraid, and so he determined to hold himself aloof and 
break away at the first chance. He wondered where 
Mr. Ely had gone, and looked around towards the door 
of the sola. And then came the great surprise of his 
life. Something struck his knee, and looking down he 
.saw a little foot clad in a black cloth gaiter with a 
high heel, and above it a white silk stocking directly 
across his lap, and at the top were two springs from 
a hoop-skirt. Before he could recover his breath, there 
was a tinkle at the door-bell ; he jumped from his seat 
and rushed into the sala. Mr. Ely and the sister sat 
at a table looking over some photographs. 

“ Bless my soul and body ! ” Mr. Ely exclaimed, 
'' what ails you now ? ” 

Senora La Paz entered the sala, but Mr. Juniper 
simply bowed to her, and then, without taking leave 


222 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


of any one, he grasped his hat and cane and hurried 
down the stairs closely followed by Mr. Ely, who 
honestly thought his friend had lost his senses. 

Once in the street, he breathed freely. In five 
minutes he had explained everything to ^fr. Ely, but 
Mr. Ely assured him on his honour that he had known 
nothing against the reputation of the young ladies. 
He had been introduced the week before by a young 
Peruvian, Mr. Fresa, and had met the sehoritas with 
their mother. They had invited him to call again and 
bring some of his English friends, and upon his word 
that was all there was to it. If that was tlie kind of 
people they were, he was glad he had found them out, 
bless my soul and body ! for he never would go there 
again. 

Mr. Juniper retired that night in deep sorrow. He 
was a big fool, tliat was certain. Ho sooner was he 
out of one difficulty than he found himself in another. 
Only a week or two before he had been face to face 
with serious danger, and had escaped by something tliat 
looked like a miraculous intervention. On that occa- 
sion he had vowed a thou.sand times that he would 
never allow himself to be exposed to like peril again, 
and here he had just been in a greater predicament 
than ever. Then, as he thought of the sehorita, the 
hot blood surged up through his cheeks to his temples. 
He wondered if the white stocking really was silk or 
cotton, and then he asked himself if it really would 
have done any harm had he simply touched it with his 
hand when it was nestled so cosily on his lap. Was 
silk softer than cotton ? He found himself almost 
regretting his hasty action, and then, what would any 
other young man have done under the circumstances ? 
But his soul revolted at the tendency of his thoughts, 
and he repeated the Lord’s Prayer slowly and carefully, 
as if to cleanse the channel of his mental action. He 
tried to fix his mind on his mother, the purest and 
the most sacred of images in his memory, and then he 


HE SKATES ON VERY THIN ICE 


223 


endeavoured to think of Celia. He could remember just 
what she wore the last time'he saw her — the gown and 
the ribbons, her hair, her arm and hand, and the pretty 
white throat, but her face seemed to have faded from 
his recollection. It was like the photograph of a lady 
who had moved her head just as the plate was exposed 
in the camera. The whole figure was perfect up to the 
throat, but the face was a blur. This hurt his feelings. 
Had he forgotten her ? Then it occurred to him that 
perhaps she was watching over him, and that it was 
hei‘ love and influence that had saved him in the past 
month. Surely the divine love extending from God 
to His children is constantly exerted on our behalf, and 
as the affection of a pure woman partakes of the same 
nature, so he really believed that Celia’s love had been 
around him as a protecting asgis in the time of danger. 
But why could he not recall her features ? He could 
easily bring before his mental vision the face of Mrs. 
Hokes, Mrs. Upton, Senorita Sancochado, and even 
Anita. It must be that she was offended at him. 

And so his mind wandered, and the clock struck 
twelve, one, two, and three before he could close his 
eyes in sleep. Then as he was saying “ Our Father 
who art in heaven ” he lost consciousness for a moment. 
He went into a room where there was a little white 
bed, and by its side was Celia kneeling. As he entered 
the door she looked up, and his heart smote him when 
he saw that her face was discoloured with tears, and 
her soft, fluffy, brown hair was dishevelled, and at once 
it struck him that she looked like the picture of the 
IHater Dolorosa by Guido Eeni that he had seen at 
home. When she recognised him, the wan, pale face, 
with the dark marks under the eyes, lighted up in the 
old sweet smile, and he could see the tear-drops glisten 
in the long lashes, and then slie sprang towards him 
with both hands extended in welcome, and a look of 
forgiveness on her face. He held out his hands to her 
in the deepest humiliation, and he awoke to find his 


/ 


224 


J'HJ': ^[AN FROM OSHKOSH 


cheeks wet with tears, and his pillow cramped and 
twisted with his movements. 

He could sleep no more, and as soon as it was light 
he arose. After he had been at his desk in the office 
an hour, the manager spoke to him — 

“ I think you had better go out to Chorrillos for two 
or three days, Mr. Juniper. You don’t look very well, 
and I am afraid you are going to have the fever.” 

Mr. Juniper thanked him, with the assurance that 
he would be entirely well in a day or two. 

Thus, through much travail and anguish, his mind 
recovered its serenity ; but now the lesson sunk deep 
into his heart. Trom that time on, the recollection of 
Celia’s face never left his memory, and in his dreams 
she came to him again in her youthful freshness and 
innocence, and the old happy light in her eyes, and, 
waking or in the slumbers of the night, she never left 
him. In times of depression and discouragement she 
was his inspiration and comfort, and temptation seemed 
inconsistent with her presence. 

A month or two after, as he passed up towards the 
church of San Pedro, he met the Senoritas La Paz 
coming from mass, prayer-book in hand, but they 
passed him with downcast eyes ; and several times 
later he saw them on the street, but there never was 
anything in their conduct to distinguish them from the 
hundreds of well-dressed young women to be seen on 
the street every day. He changed his walk to avoid 
passing the house in the Calle Seville, and soon forgot 
all about them. Possibly they were no worse than 
many others he saw, but of this he could not judge. 

The young woman in the Calle Carpinteros never 
appeared again. He tried in every possible way to 
forget the incident, and if it came up in his mind un- 
consciously, it was met by a feeling of shame. 

With these exceptions, the Peruvian ladies invariably 
impressed him with a feeling of respect and admiration. 
The constant habit of attending mass and spending hours 


HE SKATES ON VERY THIN ICE 225 

in adoration of a saint or the Virgin Mother, gave a 
spiritual, or at least a religious cast to their thoughts ; 
and the thoughts inevitably chisel the countenance into 
some sort of a reflex of the mind within ; so these ladies 
seemed habitually reverent and pure-minded, at least to 
all outward appearance. 

As to the phenomenon involved in the appearance of 
these exceptions, when all other women appeared so 
unusually refined and elevated, he explained it in after 
years by the philosophical belief that if he had not 
been looking for them he would not have met them, 
a belief which was thoroughly substantiated by all his 
later experience. 


CHAPTEE XXII 

NOT DUST TO DUST OR ASHES TO ASHES 

Mr. Juniper was sitting in his room one night after 
dinner reading “ The Origin of Species,” when Mr. Bloss 
rapped at the door, and walked in with a copy of El 
Comercio in his hand. With his finger on the de- 
partment headed '' Defunciones!’ he laid the paper on 
the table before Mr. Juniper, who read a notice to 
this effect : — 

“ The widow, sons, daughters, son-in-law, nephews, nieces, 
brother-in-law, and other relatives of him who was Francisco 
Xavier Lopez (Q.D.D.G.) request the friends to please to 
accompany them in the removal of the remains of the 
deceased to the General Cemetery to-morrow, Wednesday, 
the 7 th, at 4 P.M., from the house, Calle Santa Maria, No! 
125, a favour which will be gratefully received. 

“Lima, January 6th, 1867.” 

This news of the death of Senor Lopez struck him as 
very sad. Only on the previous Sunday evening he 
had dined at the Lopez residence, and Don Francisco 
Lopez seemed particularly cheerful. While he was 
considering the matter, a servant came to the door and 
handed him a note enclosed in an envelope heavily 
bordered with black lines. On opening it, he found 
that it was the same notice he had read in the Comercio, 
printed on a broad sheet with wide black border, and 
having for a crest an immense black cross. The en- 
velope was addressed to him, so he was invited to the 
funeral. 


226 


NOT DUST TO DUST OR ASHES TO ASHES 2 27 


He at once arose and proceeded to the Lopez resi- 
dence in the Calle Santa Maria, to call upon the family. 
He found the front door covered with streamers of 
black crape and a huge black rosette in the middle. 
His ring at the door brought a servant, and in a few 
minutes he was admitted to the salita, where Mr. Nokes 
joined him. Mr. Nokes was feeling very sad. Mrs. Nokes, 
he said, was heartbroken at the death of her father, and 
her scnora madre was like one in a trance. Sehor Lopez 
had come in from the hacienda the night before complain- 
ing of severe pains in his head. He went immedi- 
ately to bed, and Dr. Marco was sent for. A high fever 
with great dryness of the skin alarmed the medico, who 
pronounced it a bad case of jicrniciosa. The sehora and 
her daughter.^ watched over him through the night 
with every attention that love and affection could 
suggest, but just as the day began to dawn he died. 
The father-confessor was present, and administered the 
consolations of religion before death. Although the 
dying man was unconscious, it was a great comfort to 
the family that he had enjoyed the last rites of the 
Church. He had died without making a will, and his 
affairs were badly deranged, yet there was no doubt 
that he had left property sufficient to support his family 
in good shape. 

The next day, Mr. Juniper, at the hour appointed, 
went to the funeral. He had been advised by Mr. Bloss 
as to his dress, and when he reached the house in the 
Calle Santa Maria he was surprised to see how uniformly 
the costume of the ceremony had been observed. Nearly 
three hundred gentlemen were present in the patio, on 
the side-walk, and in the different rooms, and every one 
of the number, without exception, was dressed like 
liimself, in black coat and trousers, black gloves, black 
neck-tie, and silk hat. No ladies were present, and no 
gentlemen except those of a mature age. The coffin lay 
in the sala, nearly covered with floral offerings, and in 
an adjoining dormitorio an altar had been erected, with 


228 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


a crucifix, candles, and all the paraphernalia for tlu^ 
service, and at this altar the father-confessor had 
celebrated mass in the forenoon. The members of t}u3 
family had taken their leave of the dead in private, and 
the coffin was closed before the friends arrived, and 
the ladies and children were seen no more. A large 
card-receiver was heaped with the cards of the friends 
who attended the funeral. 

At the hour appointed, the coffin was raised on the 
shoulders of six peones, each one wearing a soiled robe 
of black velvet trimmed with silver lace, and carried 
to the hearse, while the six honorary pall-bearers 
walked by the side of the coffin, each holding the end 
of a black scarf which passed over it. In the hearse 
the usual wreaths, crosses, anchors, and pillows of 
flowers were placed around and upon the coffin. The 
driver wore a black velvet robe, the hearse itself had 
six gigantic ornaments of black ostrich feathers, and 
the horses were concealed by great black velvet cover- 
ings which almost trailed upon the ground. 

When the procession was formed, with the hearse in 
the lead, followed by twenty or thirty carriages, the 
driver of the hearse whipped up his horses and started 
at a break-neck speed for the Pantheon. Mr. Juniper 
was in the third or fourth carriage, and as the horses 
all started off as if entered for a race, he thought an 
accident had happened, but he soon learned that all 
funerals were conducted in this way. 

It was a long ride of two miles or more to the Pan- 
theon, but the procession reached it in a short time, 
after a most disagreeable jolting over the rough and 
poorly paved streets. It was surrounded by a liigh 
wall, and the main entrance was through a very im- 
posing gateway, ornamented on the sides with statuary 
and figures in bas-relief. Here the cortejc halted. The 
coffin was taken from the hearse with its floral me- 
mentoes, and placed on a movable platform with four 
handles, and then carried at the head of the procession 


NOT DUST TO DUST OR ASHES TO ASHES 229 


of gentlemen on foot, with the venerable padre limping 
along in his robes at the side. 

Under an arched arbour covered with luxuriant green 
vines the procession passed, among numerous tombs 
ornamented with the usual wliite marble monuments, 
and along the long row of niches, until it came to one 
where a piece of black crape was suspended, and there 
it stopped. 

When the assembly had become settled into a con- 
dition of respectful expectancy, with every head bared, 
Sehor General Eduardo Cavallo, an intimate friend and 
relative of the deceased, with a piece of manuscript in 
his hand, said “ Sehores,” and then read a short address, 
setting forth the virtues of the dead man, and the 
lesson of his life to the living. It was closely listened 
to by those present, and then the old padre limped 
forward, took up the holy water from the hands of a 
boy in a black robe, and sprinkled the coffin three 
times, saying in a low voice certain words in Latin. 
The peones lifted the coffin to the niche, which was 
about three feet square and deep enough to take it in, 
and about six feet from the ground. As the coffin slid 
into its place with a hoarse grating noise, Don Jose 
Lopez, the eldest son of the deceased, standing by the 
side of Mr. Nokes, burst into tears, but in a moment 
he had recovered his composure. A workman stood 
ready with a broad square piece of white marble fitted 
to the opening of the niche, and when the coffin was in 
its place, he closed the orifice and cemented the edges 
with fresh mortar. 

The ceremony was over. The assembly broke up, 
the men resumed their hats and slowly walked back to 
the gate, where they took the carriages again and were 
driven back to the city. As the gentlemen passed out 
of the gate, Don Jose Lopez stood just outside and 
took leave personally of each one, expressing in polite 
terms the thanks of the family. 

When all was ended, Mr. Juniper excused himself to 


230 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Mr. Nokes and returned to the Pantheon, as he never 
had visited it before, and it had a mysterious attraction 
for him. More than forty acres were included within 
the enclosure, and the view from the main entrance, 
with the trees, the beautiful flowers, the white monu- 
ments, statues, and long rows of burial niches, was 
picturesque and novel. 

The dead, except the very poor, were not buried in 
graves, as in the United States. Probably on account of 
the Eoman Catholic belief in the actual resurrection of 
the physical body, every care was taken to preserve the 
remains, as in Pere La Chaise in Paris. Around the high 
walls of the Pantheon on every side were tiers of niches, 
like pigeon-holes in a desk or letter-boxes in a post- 
office, each of which contained a coffin, and on the 
square marble front was chiselled the name of the de- 
ceased, and frequently were wreathed in immortelles, 
and in many cases with fresh flowers renewed every 
day. When the space adjoining the outer walls was 
thus filled, many years before, additions had been 
made by extending the lines into the field, towards the 
centre, and many do ble rows of niches could be seen, 
the entrance being made from either side. It was in 
one of these that the remains of Senor Lopez had been 
entombed. 

While the most numerous interments were made in 
this manner, many wealthy families owned vaults made 
by erecting buildings of stone. These were scattered 
about through the grounds, and it was at these vaults 
where the elaborate monuments and marble statuary 
had been erected. There was still another class to be 
provided for, the very poor. These were buried either in 
pits in a general pile, or els ‘ in a section corresponding 
to the “ Potter’s Field ” of English and American cities, 
where the bodies were buried in the earth for a year, and 
then the remains were removed to the quarter, where 
they were stacked in piles and treated to quicklime. 

The preservation of the bodies in niches above ground 


NOT DUST TO DUST OR ASHES TO ASHES 23 


seemed to Mr. Juniper a very strange custom. No at- 
tempt was made to stay the process of decay, and the 
air appeared tainted with foul odours. He had been told 
that in the intei est of the general health an order had 
been issued limiting the number of vehicles in a funeral 
procession, and in tinms of epidemic, or even when any 
general illness prevailed, the number of mourners in 
attendance was likewise limited. 

It was also well known that in the natural disinte- 
gration of the bodies noxious gases were evolved, and he 
had been told that these gases were so powerful that the 
door of the niche was blown from its place unless a vent 
was left for their escape ; so it had become the custom to 
leave an opening for this purpose, varying with the size 
of the body, a stout person requiring a much greater one 
than a lean one. In many of the private mausoleums a 
glass door permitted the friends or the public to look 
upon the coffin containing the mouldering remains 
within. When the season of summer brought the tem- 
perature to a high pitch, the condition of these tombs 
was a perpetual menace to the public health. He had 
been told by Mr. Bloss strange stories of these old 
vaults, stories of huge worms crawling over the glass 
front and measuring their horrid length in the broad 
light of day, and peering at the passers by as if, having 
feasted on the noxious food within, they were trying to 
find their way out in search of pastures new. 

Tiue there were beautiful trees and many flowers 
and plants within the walls of the Pantheon, kept 
alive and flourishing by streams of water through the 
acequias, and some of the marble statues were made by 
distinguished artists in Florence and Eome, and vast 
sums had been expended in the construction of the 
elaborate crypts built of stone and white marble ; yet, 
after an hour spent inside the walls, Mr. Juniper began 
to realise more fully than ever before the real meaning 
of the Scriptural figure of a whited sepulchre filled with 
dead men’s bones and all uncleanness. 


232 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


In the quiet serenity of the cemetery at Oshkosh, 
where the dead were peacefully mingling their sub- 
stance with the earth, the surface carpeted with green, 
the walks diversified with nature’s decorations, and the 
adjacent river flowing in a pensive murmuring, which 
added a fitting accompaniment to the hallowed sur- 
roundings, there was a feeling of sweet sadness which 
toned the thoughts of the visitor into a silent com- 
munion with the dead, and produced a state of mind 
which shut out the cares of daily life and made tlie 
next world appear close at hand, and the transition 
from this a matter of indiflerence ; and he never visited 
such a place without being impressed with a little of the 
spirit that pervades the “ Elegy written in a Country 
Churchyard.” But in the Pantheon there was so much 
of the horrible reality of death, and the destruction 
which follows death, all held up to be looked at, as if to 
frighten and terrify the living, that he could compare 
it only to some of the scenes from Dante’s “ Inferno,” 
or the undying woe depicted in Angelo’s “ Last Judg- 
ment.” Yet, with all its realistic terrors, some strange 
fascination held him there long after he should have 
gone ; and he walked through the aisles, and past the 
rows of niches, reading the inscriptions, and noting the 
fresh bouquets placed by the hand of affection near the 
tomb of a father, or a husband, or a brother, long since 
gathered to his reward, and always with the hope 
strangely expressed to himself that it would never be 
his fate to And a resting-place amid such harsh and 
uncanny surroundings. He could fancy that a weary 
soul doomed to part from its eartlily tabernacle placed 
in one of these awful repositories might suffer the pangs 
of disappointment and remorse at such treatment of tlie 
body ; and that in the night, when all was still, the dis- 
embodied spirit might well be expected to return to 
earth and resent the inhumanity of the living. 

The Lopez residence with its full equipment of the 
appendages of mourning was a dismal sight. One of 


NOT DUST TO DUST OR ASHES TO ASHES 233 


the dorinitorios was converted into a chamber of lamen- 
tation. The windows and doors were all tightly closed 
and the walls hung with crape. Every picture was 
eitlier turned with the front to the wall, or else strips 
of black ribbon were tied diagonally across it. No 
piece of furniture or ornamentation containing any 
light or cheerful colour was left in the room. Then, 
in this sombre apartment, with every ray of light ex- 
cluded, the widow took her seat, and here she was to 
remain for thirty days, sitting in utter silence and alone 
to pass the first month of her bereavement. Ail of the 
other apartments were draped in black in the same 
manner, aad the piano was closed. Every member of 
the family, even the children, pub on mourning. No 
visits were made, and none received, except those of 
condolence. Intimate friends, who called to offer their 
sympathy, were received by Sehora Lopez in the dark- 
ened chamber ; but after a few days, the ladies of the 
family were seen no more by visitors. Their only 
appearance in public was at the church, and then they 
appeared only in the deepest mourning. The children 
who were receiving lessons on the piano were compelled 
to stop, and the most absolute quiet and isolation 
reigned in the home which had always been the scene 
of the most lively and good-natured activity. 

The term of mourning endures for one year. During 
this period the outward semblance of sorrow is main- 
tained in every particular. The young people withdraw 
entirely from society, and every embellishment and habit 
is encouraged to emphasise or increase the appearance 
of deep sorrow. For the time at least the feminine 
members of the family are dead to the world, and the 
ordinary duties of life are comprehended in a strict and 
frequent attendance upon the church service. 

The custom of going into mourning for the death of 
relatives is general, and whole families put on the sable 
emblems of sorrow when the affliction is only in the 
loss of a cousin or an aunt. The consequence is that 


234 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


many people are never out of the weeds, and the 
public streets are often dark with the habiliments of 
sorrow. 

On the second day after the funeral, Mr. Juniper 
read in the Comcrcio another curious notice. It was to 
this effect : — 

“ Multa . — The Intendente of Police has put upon the 
Senora Amalie Yiuda de Lopez a fine of one hundred soles, 
because at the recent funeral of her husband the order was 
violated which prohibits more than six carriages from going 
ill the procession to the Pantheon.” 

The order was said to have been made on account of 
the general fear of a visitation of the yellow fever. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


A BAILS ON A BIRTHDAY 

“ Adele Maria de Flores and daughters politely salute 
Mr. Juniper, and will be glad to have him take a cup of 
tea with them to-night at eight o’clock.” 

This was the translation of a little note written on the 
visiting card of Sehora Flores, whicli was enclosed in a 
small white envelope and addressed to Mr. Juniper. 
He had called at the residence of Sehora de Flores in 
company with Mr. Bloss, and found the family rather 
agreeable. The sehora was very stout and had a double 
chin. She impressed Mr. Juniper as a lady of excellent 
mind, exceedingly kind and polite, and a most devoted 
mother. Although but little more than forty, she was 
the mother of ten children, five h ombres and five iiuigcres. 
The eldest son, Don Sebastiano, had just completed his 
study of the law, and had been regularly admitted as an 
abogado like his father. The two eldest daughters, Maria 
and Isabel, were approaching twenty, and had finished 
the course in the convent of San Pedro, while the ether 
children were too young to a[»pear in society, and they 
remained in charge of the nurses. 

The tcrtulia to which ^Ir. Juniper had been invited 
was given in honour of the camj^lc-anos of the second 
daught er, Isabel, according to the custom of the country, 
which marked the natal day < f each member of a family 
by some demonstration in the way of a party or celebra- 
tion of some kind. 

At a little after the appointed time, Mr. Bloss and 
Mr. Juniper, arrayed in full evening dress, went to the 
23s 


236 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Flores residence. It was on the hajus or ground-floor, 
and the sala was reached by crossing a wide patio. 
The guests were received by the senora and her two 
daughters in the sala opposite the door, and the father, 
Don Nemecio Flores, also appeared to welcome the two 
young extrangeros. Carrying their hats and canes, the 
young men saluted the members of the family and then 
withdrew to the salita, where their hats and canes were 
left for the evening. The long sala, with its twenty- 
four chairs and two sofas, had been cleared of the tables 
and stands and made ready for dancing. Immediately 
adjoining it, and exactly parallel, was another, sala of 
exactly the same size and shape, similarly furnished, 
and containing the piano, and this room had also been 
prepared in the same way. 

The guests were arriving rapidly as the young men 
entered, and excepting those who came as escorts, they 
all appeared to be young people from twenty to thirty 
years of age. The young gentlemen were all in evening 
dress, and seemed to have an air of extreme courteous- 
ness and formal politeness, which quite impressed a 
stranger. All were Peruvians except Mr. Juniper and 
Mr. Bloss. As the young ladies met their feminine 
acquaintances they saluted by kissing each other on 
both cheeks. They were all dressed in light colours, 
and some of the shades of red and blue were very 
striking. The conversation of all the young people 
was carried on in a low tone of voice, and while they 
appeared to be in good spirits, the party was entirely 
free from loud or boisterous conversation or laughter." 

In nearly every case the young ladies came in charge 
of the mother or father. The young lady is not usually 
left to attend an evening party without the watchful 
eye of the parent. In a few instances a brother accom- 
panied the young lady, but almost invariably it was 
the father or mother. 

When he met the young ladies, our young man from 
the North was struck with the strength of the perfumes 


A BAILK ON A BIRTHDAY 


237 


ill common use, as well as the universality of their use. 
Every sehorita seemed, to float in a cloud of sweet 
odours, and at the close of the party, when he had 
l eturned to his room, his liands and clothing seemed to 
liave become saturated with the powerful perfumes. 

About 8.30 some one exclaimed, '‘There is Tablo!” 
and a tall, swarthy man entered the rear sala with a 
roll of music and seated himself at the piano. Soon 
tlie young people began forming in both salas for the 
dancing. Mr. Juniper invited the Sehorita Flores for 
the first dance, and Mr. Tlloss was on the floor with 
Sehorita Isabel. Pablo struck up a lively air on the 
piano, and the dancing began. The single instrument 
gave sufficient music, and proved really more service- 
able for dancing than a more complete orchestra. 

At the close of the first quadrille the gentlemen con- 
ducted their partners to a small room adjoining the 
rear patio, where a large punch-bowl stood ready, and 
on a sideboard were bottles of port and sherry. Ices, 
cakes, and conjites were also at the disposal of the com- 
pany, but the young ladies at first were satisfied with 
a glass of punch or some of the confectionery. At the 
end of each set the visit was regularly made to this 
room for refreshments, and before the evening passed 
Mr. Juniper was astounded at the great quantity of 
liquid and other refreshments which the young ladies 
consumed. The dancing continued, with a short inter- 
mission between each change, until midnight, when the 
supper \vas served in the dining-room. Here a table 
was spread with soup, cold meats, salads, fruits, hiscoclios, 
sandwiches, cakes, flowers, and clulccs, and the havoc 
wrought on this display of eatables by the senoritas 
convinced him that they were by no means suffering 
from impaired digestion. 

Besides the ordinary refreshments, it was the duty 
of each of the young men to invite the young lady in 
whose honour the party was given, to go out to the 
refreshment-room at some time during the evening. 


238 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Senorita Isabel passed through this part of the ordeal 
with coiiimendable prudence, generally partaking of a 
small covfUe or part uf a glass of punch. 

After the first quadrille, and at intervals' during the 
evening, a shower of rockets and roman candles \vas 
exploded in the rear/'u/fo, and, as a fitting close of the 
festivities, a huge piece of pyrotechnics, representing a 
bouquet of flowers, was touched off just as the guests 
were departing. 

While the dancing proceeded with animation, and 
the young ladies appeared to enjoy it exceedingly well, 
the dancers moved slowly, and with a great deal of 
polite dignity, never appearing hurried, and always 
profuse in the little attentions which add so much to 
the impressiveness of the amusement. The dances were 
similar to those in the United States, but the waltz 
seemed to predominate. 

Among the young ladies present were five of the 
Senoritas Pila. Mr. Juniper had noticed some of them 
in the Alameda and at the church of San Pedro, so that 
he was very glad to make their acquaintance, for they 
spoke English with a delightful accent. They were 
descended from the celebrated General La Pila, one of 
the distinguished Peruvians who had served his country 
nobly during the war with Spain. There were two 
families of them, one with five daughters and the other 
with four. The fathers were brothers and the mothers 
were sisters, and the husbands were cousins of the 
wives, so that they appc^ared to be doubly related. 
Both fathers and both mothers had died when the nine 
children were small, and the care of the two broods had 
devolved upon the grandmother, who had reared them 
with excellent success. 

The young ladies were distinguished as much for their 
refinement and the delicacy of theii- manners as for 
their rare beauty. They had been educated at San 
Pedro, where ihciv learned the usual accomplishments, 
including Preneh and English. When the nine senori- 


A BAILE ON A BIRTHDAY 


239 


tas took a in the Alameda, walking two by two 

or in single file along the promenade, tliey attracted 
the attention of every visitor. So graceful were their 
movements and so charmingly were they attired, that 
they moved along like a flock of beautiful birds. I^one 
of the I^eruvian sefioritas Vv^ere more noted as examples 
of the Lima beauty than tlie Senoritas Lila. 

The social gatherings of the T'eruvians seemed to be 
always devoted to dancing. Whenever a birthday was 
to be celebrated or an evening company of young people 
assembled at any of the liomes, dancing was the form 
of entertainment always chosen. ]\Iany of the young 
people were musical, and the piano was a feature in 
every home. Yet it seemed to be prized rather for its 
merit as a valuable adjunct to the Jwile than as a purely 
musical instrument. Card-playing was a favourite 
amusement with older people who did not dance. The- 
Spanish game of rocamhor, played with the cpieer-looking 
Spanish cards, was popular in certain houses, where 
the father and mother spent hour after hour playing 
with some neighbour or friend, who made a practice of 
dropping in for a quiet game. The game was always 
played for a stake, like poker, and it was said of a cer- 
tain well-known seiiora, the mother of an interesting 
family of young ladies, that her earnings at the roccm- 
bor table were sufficient to supply her with plaza money, 
or funds needed by the cook for the daily expenses of 
the table. The game, however, was rarely played by 
the younger class. 

Dancing seemed to be popular with the young people, 
not because they were deficient in education or lacked 
culture, as might be supposed, but because it furnished 
a lively amusement which the quiet average of their 
lives made particularly attractive. Those of the young 
ladies educated at the convent of San Pedro seemed to 
be well drilled in certain lines, like cl lurch history, 
foreign languages, Spanisli literature, music, and draw- 
ing, while the feminine accomplishments of fine sewing 


240 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


and embroidery appeared to be carried to a high state 
of perfection. 

So devoted were tlie ladies of all ages to their duties 
at the churches, that there did not seem to be the same 
necessity for social entertainment that exists in other 
countries. Daily attendance at the misa was the duty 
of all, and besides the mass, many ladies spent hours 
at a time in silent prayer in the dimly lighted chapels 
at San Pedro, the Merced, San Domingo, or at the 
Cathedral. Besides the ordinary duties, there were so 
many fiestas or church holidays, bringing special obser- 
vances, that it seemed as if one quarter of a lady’s time 
was spent at the church, and in all these gatherings 
the younger ladies took part equally with the older. 

This frequent observance of special church holidays, 
avei-aging more than fifty in the course of a year, soon 
made it apparent to the observer that the holiday was 
more important than Sunday. Whereas on Sunday the 
shops were all open in the forenoon, and filled, many of 
them, with ladies doing their purchasing as they re- 
turned from the church, and the afternoon was devoted 
to the bull-fight or an excursion to some of the watering- 
places, with general hilarity and amusement, it always 
seemed as if the feast-day was more strictly observed, 
because the shops were invariably closed all day, the 
banks and offices were not opened at all, the newspapers 
suspended publication, and the day took the place of 
the Sabbath in its general and complete cessation of 
work and business. 

And yet the life of the Peruvian moved on so quietly, 
and with so little mental strain, so little of the worry 
and excitement of colder countries, that to the American 
every day was very much like a holiday. 


CHAPTEE XXIV 
BEHIND THE BARS 

One afternoon, as he was busily at work in the office 
of Hayner & Company, a yellow envelope was handed 
to liim. Opening it, he read the following message, 
written in a clear round hand on a sheet of soiled note- 
paper : — 

“ H. P. Juniper, — Sir, I am in great trouble, and, as an 
American, I know you will pardon me for asking a favour 
of you. I want to see you, and I beg of you to come to me 
with the messenger who delivers this note. If you cannot 
come immediately, please fix the time yourself and tell the 
man, so he can meet you. God will bless you if you will do 
this for me, for I am in sore distress. — Yours, &c., 

“ William H. Dodge.” 

He held the note for some minutes, undecided as to 
his duty in the matter. He studied the penmanship 
carefully, but did not recognise it, and the name signed 
to it was unknown to him. Finally, he went to the 
outer office, where the messenger was waiting, and 
found a cholo standing near the door. Holding the 
letter in his hand he asked — 

“ Donde esta el senor ? ” 

“En Guadalupe.” 

“ En la iglesia ? ” 

“ Xo ! en el carcel,” said he, laughing. 

In jail ! This was truly a surprise. Guadalupe was 
an old convent erected in the days of the' Spanish 
conquerors, but in modern times it contained a church 
241 o 


242 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


and a hospital, and in another part of its capacious 
grounds there was a quartel where a regiment of 
soldiers was quartered, and close by was the jail where 
prisoners were locked up awaiting trial. Across the 
broad square, a quarter of a mile distant, were the 
frowning walls of the Panop tico, containing Peru’s 
criminals sentenced to various terms of imprisonment. 

He did not relish a visit to such a place, and he was 
about to give the messenger his refusal in blunt lan- 
guage, when it occurred to him that Mr. Dodge might be 
the innocent victim of oppression, and in a foreign land 
he ought to expect at least an investigation of his case 
by his own countrymen. Besides, he had a curiosity 
to see the interior of such an institution, so he decided 
to go. Turning to the cholo, he directed the man to 
meet him at his room on the following Saturday, which 
was to be a fiesta, and the man left. 

When he reached the great door of the carcel, there 
were half-a-dozen soldiers on guard. With their red 
caps, grey-blue jackets, white trousers, and high boots, 
the soldiers made a picturesque appearance. Each 
carried a gun with a fixed bayonet, and as Mr. Juniper 
approached, they, walked menacingly toward him, ex- 
pressing in their countenances the natural hatred whicli 
every one of them felt for the young gringo in his fine 
clothes. Following the lead of the messenger, he 
walked without interruption through the group to the 
barred door within the small court. A turnkey at the 
lattice opened the door at the request of tlie messenger, 
and both stepped inside, and then the door closed with 
a loud noise. A large patio was to be seen, paved with 
small round stones, and containing a dozen or more 
prisoners who had the liberty of the yard, with half-a- 
dozen officials. Mr. J uniper was conducted across the 
patio to a small office about twelve feet square, with 
bare stone floor, containing two wooden benches, a small 
table, and two chairs. Here he was seated, while the 
messenger retired, and he could hear the name of Dodge 


BEHIND THE BARS 


243 


called in a loud voice at the gate of an inner patio ^ and 
then an answer came from a still further recess, and in 
a few minutes the prisoner appeared at the door of the 
office. 

“ Glad to see you, Mr. Juniper,” said the man, offering 
his hand, “ and I am very thankful to you for this visit.” 

His voice sounded like that of an acquaintance ; but 
in his soiled clothing, unkempt hair, and generally 
dilapidated appearance, Mr. Juniper failed to recognise 
him. 

“ I see that you do not remember me,” said the 
prisoner, ‘‘ and I am not surprised at it. I came down 
on the steamer with you from Hew York. My right 
name is Sinclair, and at that time I was a clerk in the 
railroad office at Colon.” 

Mr. Juniper remembered him distinctly, but could 
not repress a shudder at the evident misfortune of the 
young man. 

“ I’ll tell you how I came to get into this wretched 
place,” said he. “When I went back to Colon, I 
boarded in the same house with a number of young 
Englishmen. They all lived high, for they were earn- 
ing big salaries, and were in the habit of drinking 
freely, and in a little while I got into the habit of 
taking too much liquor. I lost a little money at poker, 
and, to get even, I borrowed $100 of a Jew, mortgaging 
my salary in advance, and paid my debts. Then the 
company found it out and discharged me without a 
cent, for I had drawn all my pay ; and I had to skip 
out from the Isthmus, for the Jew swore out a warrant 
for me, charging me with swindling. I changed my 
name to Dodge, and got a chance to work my passage 
on an American ship from Panama to Callao. I came 
to Lima last year without a cent, but I secured a job 
in a guano office, where I earned fair w^ages for two or 
three months, and then I opened a small shop for the 
sale of exchange. I rented a little hole in the wall on 
one of the streets near the Plaza, where I sold cigarettes, 


244 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


lottery tickets, and foreign money. The first month I 
cleared I40, and the second $50, and then, as I had 
more capital, I made I75 the third month. I had a 
good thing, for I can speak Spanish like a native, and 
I have a smattering of French and Italian, and I can 
talk a little Chinese. I had paid all my bills promptly, 
and the cigarette man insisted on my stocking up with 
a big lot of cigarettes on credit. I was in a fair way 
to do well, but somehow my luck failed me. One 
Saturday I thought I would go down to Pisco for a 
week, as I was tired of my steady work in the little 
shop from seven o’clock in the morning until eleven 
o’clock at night. I took all the money from the sliow- 
case, and got a boy to run the shop and sell the 
cigarettes, and took the steamer for the south. I had 
$110 in gold and silver, which I carried in my belt. 
Four days after I got to Pisco, an officer from Lima 
arrested me for cstafa, took all my money from me, 
and I was brought back and chucked in this jail. My 
shop was seized, and here I am. It seems that the 
cigarette man got frightened because they thought I 
had run away, and had me arrested.” 

“ How much did you owe ? ” 

“Not more than $75, and I had cigarettes enough in 
my shop to come to almost that amount.” 

“ What became of your money ? ” 

“ The officer took it, and I have not been able to get 
a dollar of it.” 

“ How long have you been here ? ” 

“ Three months. Every day or two they promise to 
give me a trial, and yet it is put off, and the yellow 
fever is coming.” 

Mr. Juniper was getting indignant. 

“Do you mean to say that you had more than $100 
with you, and that you owed only $75, and that both 
your money and the stock of cigarettes were con- 
fiscated, and you are in jail on the complaint of the 
man who sold you the cigarettes?” 


BEHIND THE BARS 


245 


“ That is my case exactly.” 

“AYhy didn’t you complaiii to the Consul?” 

“ There is no Consul here. I have laid my case be- 
fore the American Minister, but he says that as long 
as the authorities follow the law, he can do nothing.” 

“ But are they following the law ? ” 

“ Yes ; they are undoubtedly observing the law, as 
far as my imprisonment is concerned.” 

Have you a lawyer ? ” 

‘‘No; 1 have no money to hire one. The judge 
asked me if I had one, and when I told him, he ap- 
pointed one to look after my case, but he is no good.” 

“ I suppose you want some money ? ” 

“ I could use some, but what I would like to have 
you do is to see the judge.” 

Mr. Juniper was horrified. 

“ I would not dare to,” he said. 

The prisoner smiled. 

see you don’t understand the way things are 
done in this country. I know that a personal appeal 
to a judge in the United States would be a contempt 
of court. Here, on the contrary, it is the regular 
practice. I am told that whenever a man has even 
a civil action in the courts, it is a (question of ‘in- 
fluence ’ with the judge, and the man who has the 
strongest friends to talk privately to the judge always 
wins. In criminal cases, the judge decides on both 
the law and the evidence, and if a piisoner can bring 
the influence of a friend, or a hundred friends, it always 
has weight with him. If you can see him, or induce 
any of your friends to see him, I am sure it will help 
my case.” 

Mr. Juniper considered for a moment. 

“ I will see a lawyer,” said he. “ It is a burning 
shame to be treated in the way you are.” 

He handed the prisoner {2 and took his leave. 

The Palace of Justice was a shambling one-storey 
building occupying almost a block in the upper part 


246 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


of the city. On the streets leading to it he had noticed, 
while walking on several occasions, the signs of the 
lawyers. Nearly all the abogados had their offices 
within two or three blocks of the building which bore 
such a portentous name, and which was supposed to be 
the abode of the goddess who presides with the scales. 

Mr. Juniper walked into one of these offices while 
his indignation at Mr. Dodge’s statement was still at 
white heat. The attorney received him politely, but 
he could speak no English. Mr. Juniper felt that he 
could find no expletives in his limited vocabulary of 
Spanish sufficiently powerful to express his feelings 
on the subject. He was, therefore, courteously directed 
to the office of Dr. Diaz, who could speak English. 

All the lawyers are called Doctors in Spanish 
countries. Dr. Diaz had his office two blocks away. 
He was in an inner room, hard at work at a table 
covered with big documents, stamped with revenue 
stamps and marked with hieroglypliics put on in black 
and blue with rubber stamps round and oval in shape. 

Mr. Juniper was shown to a seat on the sofa. In as 
few words as possible, he explained the case of Mr. 
Dodge. 

My dear sir,” said Dr. Diaz, smiling politely over 
his spectacles, “ what do you wish me to do ? ” 

“ I want to get Mr. Dodge out. It is a great shame, 
and an outrage on justice, to arrest him.” 

Who will pay my bill ? ” asked the Doctor, looking 
over his visitor from head to foot. 

“ I will. How much will it be ? ” 

‘‘ I cannot tell. Before I undertake the case, I wish 
you to pay me $50. Then I will investigate, and after 
that you shall pay me what is necessary according to 
the circumstances, my dear sir.” 

“ But the man has no money, and is a stranger to me. 
I am interested in him only because he is unfortunate. 
I cannot pay so much !” 

Dr. Diaz took up his pen and dipped it in the ink. 


BEHIND THE BARS 


247 


“Very well, you shall pay me $25 then. I will examine 
the sumario. When I have studied the case I will tell 
you how it stands, and then w^e can see what can be done.” 

Mr. Juniper thanked him. In half an hour he had 
returned from his room with the §25, which he paid 
to Dr. Diaz. In eight days he was to return to Dr. 
Diaz to receive the Doctors report. He went home 
with his indignation somewhat mollified, and in a better 
frame of mind when he realised that he was doing some- 
thing to relieve the misfortunes of another. 

On Sunday morning, eight days later, he called at 
the lawyer’s office. Dr. Diaz was ready to report. 

“ I have studied all the papers in the case of Mr. 
Dodge,” said he, “and the case is very bad, very bad. 
The evidence is all against him. He bought the goods 
of the cigareros. He ran away. He is guilty of estafa. 
It is a very hard case. I am afraid he will be sent to 
the penitentiary. But he is innocent ; I am sure he is 
innocent.” 

“ But if he is innocent, why should he be punished ? ” 

“ My dear sir, you are not a lawyer. All the evi- 
dence that has been put in is against him. Nothing 
has been put in to favour him. As it stands now, he 
will be convicted.” 

“ Did he not have a lawyer to defend him ? ” 

“ Yes, but the lawyer did not do anything.” 

“ What can be done about it ? ” 

“ Nothing now. In forty days it will come up again. 
Then you come and see me and I will tell you.” 

]\Ir. Juniper could not forget the case. When he 
called on the Doctor again, this was his advice — 

“ You pay me 1 1 00 and I will get your friend released.” 

“ But I cannot pay you |ioo.” 

“Then your friend will be sentenced.” 

“ Good heavens ! what justice ! Why can’t you take 
the money that the man had when he was arrested ? He 
had more than that amount when the officer found him 
at Pisco.” 


248 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“ Some of the money was used to pay his fare back 
to Lima. Some was used to pay the oflicer’s fees for 
arresting him. The rest is held by the judge. It can- 
not be used.'’ 

“ Mr. Dodge is a young man who will soon have money 
if he is released. Why can’t you get him out and let 
him pay you after he gets out ? ” 

My dear sir, I do not work for nothing. Give me 
the 1 1 00 and he is released, otherwise I do nothing.” 

It was a painful situation for Mr. Juniper, for he 
could not well spare the money, and he did not like 
to think of the. young man in a felon’s cell. He asked 
Dr. Diaz to let the matter rest until the next day, and 
walked out. 

He had found, on studying up the case, that the 
whole system of judicial procedure was different from 
anything he had ever heard of in the United States. 
There was no jury system, and no cross-examination of 
witnesses. Testimony was taken in secret. Witnesses 
asserted anything ’they cliose, and signed the written 
declaration, which went into court as testimony. The 
judge read over the declaration, and made his decision 
accordingly. The common practice was for a litigant 
to enlist his influential friends in his behalf, and their 
personal intercession with the judge was considered a 
perfectly legitimate means of carrying on a suit. 

When he returned to the lawyer’s office the next day, 
Dr. Diaz said — 

“ Mr. Jlodge has been sentenced to three years’ im- 
prisonment in the Panoptico.” 

Mr. Juniper’s feelings gave way. 

“ Never mind,” said Dr. Diaz, noticing his look of 
disappointment, it is not already too late. I can 
appeal the case.” 

Mr. Juniper paid him the |ioo, and the doctor agreed 
to see the .judge privately and get the man released. 
In a week he had secured an order to appeal the case, 
had the sentence vacated, and then arranged a com- 


BEHIND THE BARS 


249 


promise with the creditors. Mr. Dodge would be re- 
leased ; but his money could not be recovered, and he 
would find himself at liberty, but penniless. 

A week later, when Mr. Juniper called at the lawyer’s 
office, he was told that Mr. Dodge had been released, 
and the next day he had taken passage for Panama and 
San Francisco, without seeing his benefactor, or leaving 
a word of thanks or acknowledgment. 

In speaking about the Dodge case to Mr. Bloss, that 
gentleman gave him some information on the subject 
which was new to him. Said Mr. Bloss — 

“ It is not safe to have anything to do with strangers 
in this country. You must consider every stranger a 
rascal until he proves himself different. All these 
towns on the coast are infested with adventurers who 
come from Europe and the United States to avoid 
arrest or punishment for some irregularity. There is no 
extradition treaty with other nations, so that criminals 
are safe here. In our office we have a man who left 
England because he could not live with his wife, and 
next door there is a Frenchman who killed a man in 
Paris, and fled to this coast under an assumed name. 
And your nationality is well represented also. One of 
the best known Americans in Lima left San Francisco 
to get rid of his wife, and another has never returned 
to the United States since he left, more than thirty 
years ago, for his name is different now from the one 
he had when he left. Only a few' years ago an Ameri- 
can put in an appearance in Lima claiming to be the 
representative of a New York guano firm. He was 
‘ put up ’ at the clubs, and lived high, for he seemed 
to have plenty of money. He played a good game of 
poker, as many of the young men found to their sorrow, 
when suddenly he disappeared. It developed after he 
was gone that he was an ex-cashier of a New York 
bank, who had absconded with |5o,ooo of the bank’s 
money, and the arrival of a detective from New York 
had hastened his departure.” 


250 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Mr. Juniper discovered afterwards that Dr. Diaz had 
been retained also by the cigarette manufacturers to 
prosecute Mr. Dodge, and received a fee from them also, 
and that the money taken from the prisoner had been 
paid into court to secure the settlement of the case. 
While he regretted the loss of his money, Mr. Juniper 
realised that he had done exactly what was right in 
the case, for if he had not interfered to save the poor 
wretch from the penitentiary, his conscience never 
would have given him peace. Yet, after the revela- 
tions made to him by Mr, Bloss, he resolved to be 
a little more careful in making or permitting the 
acquaintance of strangers. Certain peculiar circum- 
stances which he had observed in connection with 
some of his acquaintances in Lima were now fully 
explained. 


CHAPTER XXV 
HIDDEN TREASURE 

As Mr. Juniper started from his home in the Calle 
Cadiz one morning after he had taken his coffee, he 
noticed a crowd of people surrounding the house ad- 
joining. The patio was filled, the doors were wide 
open, and people kept coming and going, as if they 
had important news to communicate. Entering the 
great door, he inquired in Spanish of a woman who 
appeared to be a servant in the house — 

“ What is the matter ? ” 

“ The money, seiior.” 

“ What money ? ” 

“ Don’t you know ? They found a large sum of 
money in the wall.” 

He at once pushed his way through the crowd, as 
others were doing, and found the sala crowded, and 
even the dormitorio within was filled with the enor- 
mous throng of people. From where he stood, near 
the door, he could see that the adobe wall had been 
cut into, and a pile of earth still remained on the floor 
near the bed. Women in the crowd were quietly say- 
ing their prayers and counting the beads in the rosario. 
The Senora Castelar, who lived in the house, was not to 
be seen. She had gone to her sister’s, and had taken 
the money with her. 

Mr. Juniper withdrew and proceeded to the office. 
The story had reached every one there before his 
arrival. The city was wild with excitement. People 
who owned old houses were tapping on the walls, and 
251 


252 


THP] MAN FROT^I OSHKOSH 


testing every place which had a liollow sound. Exag- 
gerated accounts were given of the amount of money 
found, some authorities placing it at $50, others Jioo, 
and still others at $500. Some of the credulous related 
that an angel had brought it in the night to tlie Senora 
Castelar, while others believed that the Virgin Mother 
had appeared in the room, bringing the gold in her 
apron. 

When he returned to the Calle Cadiz for his break- 
fast, Mr. Juniper found that the crowd had disappeared. 
Mr. Bloss and Mr. Bly had heard the various stories, 
but were inclined to discredit them. Mr. Juniper’s 
statement that he had seen the opening in the wall 
and the earth which had been removed was the first 
positive evidence they had heard. 

At the office again after breakfast, Mr. Juniper re- 
ceived a connected and reliable account of the whole 
affair from the manager, Mr, Hayner. It transpired 
that Mrs. Hayner was a sister of the Sefiora Castelar, 
and Mrs. Hayner had been at the residence of another 
sister, Senora Bueno Euente, where the money had been 
taken. IMr. Hayner had also been called there to look 
at the great find, and his eyes sparkled as he described 
what he had seen, and how lie had held some of the 
pieces in his fingers, and examined them with a pocket- 
magnifier. Whatever the explanation might be, and 
however absurd the stories in circulation as to the 
causes which led to the discovery, Mr. Hayner was 
sure of one thing, and that was that it was genuine 
gold, and worth a big price in the market. From his 
story Mr.’ Juniper deduced the main facts, which were 
about as follows : — 

Senora Castelar was the wife of Don Eulogio Castelar, 
who was absent in Europe on business connected with 
his guano interests. The house in which they lived 
was one of the oldest in Lima. It had been in the 
possession of the Castelar family for at least three 
generations, and it was not a new house when the first 


HIDDEN TREASURE 


253 


Castelar purchased it, although its present owner had 
rebuilt a portion of it. The sehora had been attending 
a novena at the church of La Merced for the past week, 
and after her return to her home she had spent many 
hours on her knees with her rosario in her hands, say- 
ing her Ave Marias. One night, after she had been 
wearied with her many hours of devotion, she fell 
asleep immediately after retiring, but was shortly 
awakened to find some one in her room Near the 
foot of the bed stood a woman about thirty years old, 
a stranger, in the garb of a JMother of the Sacred 
Heart. Her head was bent in the attitude of devotion, 
and her lips moved as if saying lier prayers, but they 
emitted no sound. As soon as the senora could collect 
her scattered senses and realise what it was, she closed 
her eyes and made the sign of the cross tliree times. 
When she opened her eyes the figure had disappeared, 
and the candle on the stand by the side of her bed 
began to grow dim, and finally the light disappeared 
as she gazed on it, leaving a rank odour behind it. 

The next night she was again aw^akened by the same 
apparition, and this time she crossed herself without 
closing her eyes. The weary face of the nun did not 
relax as she continued her prayers, and in a few minutes 
the outlines of the figure became dim and then disap- 
peared entirely, and the candle light expired of its own 
accord, leaving the same disagreeable odour as on the 
first night. 

“ If she comes again,” said the sehora to herself, for 
she was a woman of excellent mind, “ I shall speak to 
her.” 

On the third night, the lady could scarcely compose 
herself to sleep, so great was the anxiety on her mind. 
However, she found herself gazing as before on the wan 
face of the nun and listening for the sound which might 
come from the thin lips as they seemed to repeat the 
words of a familiar prayer. Without stopping to make 
the sign of the cross, the sehora raised herself on her 


254 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


elbow, and reaching for her rosary which was under her 
pillow, she turned to the mysterious visitor and said — 

“ Holy Mother, what can I do to please you ?” 

The strange figure did not appear startled, but turn- 
ing her placid eyes upon the lady, she pointed with her 
right hand to the wall near the foot of the bed and said 
in a low voice — 

“ Busca aqui ! ” 

As soon as she saw that her words were understood, 
she resumed her devotions, and in an instant the whole 
apparition had faded out of sight, the light of the candle 
slowly died away, and all was quiet as on the preced- 
ing night. The senora, while she understood the mes- 
sage, did not think of its significance, and was soon lost 
in slumber. 

Wlien she awoke in the morning, the visit of the 
mysterious monja came vividly to her mind, and as she 
pondered over the words of her visitor she began to 
wonder what it could mean. She noted the candle on 
the little marble-topped stand, and then glanced at the 
place in the wall where the nun had pointed. Perhaps 
there was something concealed and she had been bidden 
to search there to discover it. After Manuela had 
brought in the coffee, she continued wrapt in thought, 
and when she had finished the desayiono, she arose, 
dressed herself hurriedly, and then sent Manuela for 
Martin, the mayor-domo. 

When Martin came, she told him that she believed 
something was concealed in the wall near the foot of her 
bed. He brought in Julio, the gardener, and in a few 
minutes they had cut through the wall paper, and just 
inside the adobe Julio’s tool struck something hard. 
They dug around it, and soon lifted out a large tin box, 
rusty and discoloured, and as it was laid on the floor 
something rattled inside. They found it locked, but 
J ulio’s chisel soon opened it, and inside was the greatest 
quantity of old Spanish ounces and doubloons, one or 
two French pieces, and three or four English sovereigns, 


HIDDEN TREASURE 


255 


besides a gold cross and several small pieces of jewellery 
of a very old pattern. While these things were being 
taken out Sehora Castelar stood by in speechless aston- 
ishment. As soon as she could recover her self-control, 
she had the gold and jewellery all returned to the box 
and the box wrapped in paper, and, in the hands of the 
faithful Martin, it was carried to the house of Sehor 
Bueno Fuente, the senora walking quietly by Martin’s 
side and scarcely taking her eyes off the heavy package 
until it was safe in her sister’s house. The coins were 
examined and then turned over to the bank, which 
afterwards shipped them to Paris, where they were sold 
to a firm of brokers at a price considerably exceeding 
their value as old metal. 

Thinking of this incident, Mr. Juniper was led to 
consider more carefully his own circumstances. The 
great event in his life which was to make his fortune 
had not yet occurred, and as far as he could judge was 
not likely to. He had been steadily employed, and 
except for the unfortunate expenditure in behalf of Mr. 
Dodge, he had wasted none of his earnings. Neverthe- 
less he had long since decided that he could never reach 
the degree of success which he had hoped for if he de- 
pended solely upon the salary. He ]^ad thought of an 
investment in guano or in mines, but either needed 
more capital than he could control, and both were 
attended with great risk. 

If he could make some such strike as that made by 
Senora Castelar, he would be in a fair way to accom- 
plish his purpose, but the slow accumulation which was 
possible from his monthly pay would never enable him 
to go back to the United States as he had hoped to go. 

One evening he dined with ^Ir. Santa Cruz, a young 
Peruvian who was employed in a guano office. The 
young man spoke very good English, having spent four 
years in England, two of them at the University of 
Oxford. At the table he met the widowed mother of 
Mr. Santa Cruz and two of his sisters, young ladies of 


256 


THK FROM OSHKOSH 


the reguLition i’eru\'iaii type, with large dark eyes, 
black hair, and pure olive complexion, their movements 
accompanied by the usual powerful odour of perfume. 

The sixth person at the table, however, was a char- 
acter he was glad to meet in his study of the peculiari- 
ties of the country. It was a monk or priest, he could 
not tell which, who was introduced by Mr. Santa Cruz 
as his cousin, Padre Geronimo. The f mile was a young 
man, scarcely twenty-five years old. He had tw^o 
piercing black eyes, a swarthy complexion, a handsome 
intelligent countenance smoothly shaven, and the top 
of his head was shaved bare and white, leaving a fringe 
of black hair all around like a crown. Under his throat 
was a white collar extending unbroken around his neck, 
and outwardly he was attired in a single priestly gar- 
ment, a robe of black which reached to the floor. Sewed 
to the breast was a large red cross a foot in length. 

The cleriyo spoke no English, but in his conversation 
during the evening, Mr. Juniper drew out the fact that 
he was a serano, or a native of the mountainous country 
in the interior, that he had come to Lima when a youth, 
and had entered the cathedral as a student, and that he 
was ambitious enough to look forward to promotion in 
the future, even as high as a bishopric. He was evi- 
dently better read than the average priest, for he told 
Mr. Juniper that he had learned French since he came 
to Lima, and had mastered many of the best French 
theologians in their own tongue. English he did not 
know, but he had read translations of Shakspere in 
Spanish, and evidently had kept himself abreast of the 
times, for his inquiries about the war in the LTiiited 
States and the death of Abraham Lincoln showed that 
he was advised of current events. 

''My cousin has a curious story about the Incas,” 
said Mr. Santa Cruz. " I was thinking about it last 
week when I heard about that discovery of gold by Mrs. 
Castelar. I wish you and I could go up to that country 
and trace the story to see if there is any truth in it.” 


HIDDEN TREASURE 


257 


With the aid of Mr. Santa Cruz, who helped him 
out by translating such of his sentences as were unin- 
telligible to Mr. Juniper, Father Geronimo told his story 
as the gentlemen smoked their cigarettes' after dinner. 
Using his language as far as possible, and arranging his 
answers to Mr. Juniper’s questions so as to make a con- 
tinuous narrative, it would read something like this : — 
“ I was born near San Carlos, in the north of Peru, 
on the eastern slope of the cordilleras in the Amazon 
valley, something like ten leagues from Cajamarca. 
My father owned a small finca, where he raised horses 
and cattle. The climate is warm, but the elevated 
land tempers the heat, and it is alw^ays sunny without 
being hot, and the vegetation is always luxuriant. The 
valley lies between the two ranges of the cordilleras 
on the east and west, and as far as the eye can reach it 
is one succession of green fields, with the mountains in 
the distance. Ever since I was a boy I have been told 
about the llamas that were killed in the cordillera, and 
my father has also heard the same story. My father’s 
ancestors were natives of the country. His father was 
a Spaniard, but his mother was a native, and he was 
always prouder of his Indian ancestry than his European 
blood. When I was a small boy, we were riding one 
day along the hills skirting the western cordillera, in 
search of a flock of sheep which had escaped from the 
charge of the peones, when he told me that his an- 
cestors were Incas, and owned all the country before 
the Spaniards came. Pointing to a narrow mule-track 
that wound its way along the side of the hill and dis- 
appeared in the sierra, he said — 

“ ‘ Somewhere up that mountain there is gold enough 
to make us all rich. When onr great master Atahualpa, 
the last of the Incas, was a prisoner in the hands of 
the bloodthirsty Spaniards at Cajamarca, he was pro- 
mised his liberty as soon as he filled with gold the 
dungeon in which he stood. Before the room was com- 
pletely filled he was treacherously assassinated. A 

R 


258 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


train of thirty-three llamas was on its way to Cajainarca, 
near yonder mountain-side, laden with gold which it 
was carrying from this valley, when a courier came 
over the cordilleras bearing the sorrowful intelligence 
that the great Inca was no more. The officers and 
arrieros held a consultation, and it was decided to kill 
the llamas and bury the metal in the mountains, where 
no cruel Spaniard would ever find it. Our ancestors 
used the gold only for ornamenting their temples, 
and in its dismantled condition it was not considered 
valuable. Accordingly the llamas were driven by a 
narrow pass into a defile of the sierra, where no man 
had ever trod the ground, and then the animals were 
slain, and their bodies, with the load which each one 
carried, were covered with the sand from the hill above 
them. The two subalterns and three arrieros took a 
solemn oath never to divulge the secret, and then they 
separated. My mother has told me the story many 
times, for it was one of her ancestors who was in com- 
mand of the party that day. While he lived he did 
not consider the gold his property, and when he died 
his secret died with him.’ 

“ My father himself died about three years after I 
came to Lima. No one has ever discovered the hiding- 
place in the mountains, but I have often told my cousin 
that I believed that I could put him on the track of 
the llamas.” 

“ Did you ever try to follow the trail ? ” asked Mr. 
Juniper. 

“I never tried to find it,” said the fra, He, “but from 
the description of the place, as my father had heard of 
it, I think I could find it. Some time, if I can ever go 
to the old place, I shall urge my cousin to come with 
me, and then we can make a diligent search.” 

“ Suppose we organise an excursion, or what do you 
call it— an expedition,” said Mr. Santa Cruz, “ and go 
ill search of the lost treasure. What do you say, Mr. 
Juniper?” 


HIDDEN TREASURE 


259 


“ I would like the treasure well enough,” said Mi-. 
Juniper, “but I am afraid that it would cost too much 
to go into that part of the country on such an exten- 
sive journey as that would be.” 

When he left the Santa Cruz residence about ten 
o’clock, he bade adieu to the jovial young friar with 
regret, for he had enjoyed the clerigos conversation, 
and his stories of hidden gold began to add to the fever 
in his mind which was started by tlie disco ve ties in the 
Castelar house. 

Money was the important thing, but how was he to 
secure it ? He had thought of the lottery. Every day 
on the street he had been solicited to buy the tickets, 
but he had always refused. Always the peddlers had 
told him of the good fortune of the American Minister, 
who had bought a suerte ticket for twenty centavos 
which had drawn the capital prize of 5000 dollars. 
Perhaps he would he equally fortunate, but his practical 
turn of mind would not permit him to indulge in such 
childish anticipations. 

Still, he felt that it was time he was doing some- 
thing more than to earn the salary he was getting, if 
he expected to make his fortune in Peru. And then 
he had to smile at the simplicity of his expectations 
when he left Wisconsin. And Larry Johnson, how 
funny his idea of cutting saw-logs in Peru or digging 
in the guano mines!’ He had not heard from Larry 
since he left him in New York. AYhenever he thought 
of Larry he felt a desire to return to the United States. 

On the table in his room, when he reached the house 
in the Calle Cadiz, he found an immense black-bordered 
envelope addressed to himself, containing an engraved 
invitation, on a large sheet of heavily-bordered paper, 
as follows : — 

“ The widow and children of Senor Don Francisco Xavier 
Lopez (Q.D.D.G.), who died the 6th of January 1867, 
entreat you to join in the funeral ceremony for the eternal 


26o 


THi*: MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


rest of the soul of the deceased, which wdll take place in 
the church of our Lady of Mercy, on the 5th instant, at ten 
o’clock in the morning. It will he a favour which wdll be 
profoundly acknowledged. The mourning will be received 
by cards at the entrance of the Temple. 

“ Lima, January 1868.” 

This was the funeral mass to be given in remem- 
brance of the late Sen or Lopez, according to the rites 
of the Church. The ceremony is an important one, for 
the soul of the deceased is supposed to be waiting in 
purgatory, undergoing a probationary season, and the 
prayers of his family and friends are believed to be 
necessary to get him through to the region of eternal 
bliss. 

At the hour appointed Mr. Juniper repaired to the 
Merced Church, one of the largest and most interesting 
in Lima. 

The appearance of the interior was calculated to im- 
press the visitor with a feeling of solemnity in conso- 
nance with the character of the ceremony. Every 
window was closed and darkened, and the vast room 
was shrouded in the darkness of night. From the high 
ceiling on either side were suspended drapings of black 
velvet reaching to the floor, while the double row of 
columns supporting the ceiling were concealed by folds 
of the same dark material. Upon the altar burned 
half a hundred tall candles, while around it were wreaths 
of immortelles and natural flowers, one bearing in large 
letters the name of the deceased. High above the altar 
hung seven candelabra, each having seven tall candles, 
and at intervals on both sides of the room beneath the 
arches, extending clear to the front entrance, were more 
candles, while another series of lights were suspended 
by cords from the high ceiling, and the visitor could 
detect in the weird darkness a metallic urn swing- 
ing forty feet above, where a flickering light like the 
flame of a huge alcohol lamp made its appearance 


HIDDEN TREASURE 


261 


intermittently, its ghostly light adding to the general 
effect. 

The church was so large and the dark hangings so 
numerous that all the candles and lamps illuminated 
it only partially, and as Mr. Juniper entered it was 
with difficulty he could distinguish in the darkness the 
figures of the men and women clothed in black, who 
were seated on either side of the main aisle. 

At the entrance stood a servant in charge of an 
immense server, which was partially filled with the 
visiting-cards of those in attendance. 

Shortly after Mr. Juniper was seated, a procession 
of twenty priests came from the room adjoining the 
altar, and marched silently down the long aisle to a 
row of seats near the door. In a few minutes the 
organ began a voluntary, and soon after the mass 
followed it. A choir of thirty singers, assisted by an 
orchestra equally as large in the loft above the main 
entrance, sang a mass ; and as the trained voices of 
the men rose in the solemn music, and were supported 
by the priests and acolytes below, the whole interior 
seemed flooded with the mournful melody, and the 
grim darkness and the strange, uncertain lights pro- 
duced the impression of being in some ancient cave 
or basilica. The excellence of the music and the sober 
surroundings produced a fascination which was diffi- 
cult to resist, and, listening to it, Mr. Juniper sat for 
a time like one in a trance. While it was largely in 
the nature of a musical entertainment produced by a 
paid choir and orchestra, the celebration of the mass 
by the priests who returned in procession to the altar 
was carried on with all posssible pomp and ceremony, 
and it was three hours before the last part was con- 
cluded. 

The mass cost the family of Sefior Lopez the sum of 
1 1 500, but it was the last of the ceremonies which 
followed his death. 


CHAPTER XXVI 

IN WHICH HE GOES AFTER HUACOS 

“ Let us go out and hunt for liuacos” said Mr. Bloss. 
“ Thursday is a feast-day, and we can go to Chorrillos 
the night before.” 

“ I would like to go very well,” said Mr. J uniper, 
“but I am not much of a shot, for I have had no 
practice.” 

Mr. Bloss laughed. 

“ I think you could bring down a huaco easily enough,” 
said he, “if you are a poor shot.” 

It was then explained to him that the hiiacos were 
the deserted Inca tombs, and the name was generally 
applied to the articles which had been taken from 
them. Especially was it applied to the pieces of pot- 
tery, such as water-jugs, vases, and pitchers, made of 
earthenware in various grotesque patterns. When the 
Incas buried their dead, they deposited with the body 
a number of these jugs, some with water and others 
undoubtedly contained liquor, and smaller dishes had 
been found with remains of corn, beans, fishes, shrimps, 
and other articles of food. Other graves contained pieces 
of cloth of brilliant colouring, and sometimes various 
articles of metal ware were found in the form of small 
tools or ornaments. Generally the metal was copper, 
but often it was silver, and in the tombs of the wealthy 
it was gold. To search for Jmacos was quite a common 
amusement among the grin(/os^ and even the Perm ians 
themselves joined in the questionable sport. 

The antiquity of these sepulchres was a matter which 

262 


IN WHICH HE GOES AFTER HUACOS 263 

had never been definitely settled. Beyond a doubt the 
graves existed previous to the arrival of the Spaniards, 
but how much longer no one could tell. Owing to the 
presence of saltpetre in the soil, the bodies did not 
decompose, but remained in the form of mummies to 
an indefinite period, so that many scientists had ex- 
pressed the opinion that the articles exhumed from some 
of the graves were contemporary with those excavated 
in Egypt or ancient Troy. . 

About twelve miles from the village of Chorrillos 
were the ruins of the ancient city of Pachacamac. 
Here could plainly be seen the outlines of the old 
fortifications, the temples, palaces, and residences of 
an old Inca city. The buildings had been made of 
adobe, as in the present day, and the ravages of time 
had beaten down the walls and partially covered the 
ruins with an accumulation of sand, and the whole 
territory was absolutely deserted, as the first visitors to 
Peru, nearly four hundred years ago, had found it when 
they arrived. 

On Wednesday evening, Mr. Bloss, Mr. Juniper, and 
Mr. Bly took the train for Chorrillos. Early the next 
morning the three young men started on horseback for 
Pachacamac, with a mozo who carried shovels and the 
food for the day. A ride of little more than two hours 
through a country partly composed of fertile valleys, 
green with verdure and smiling in luxuriant crops, and 
partly over a series of dry, arid hills, dusty, hot, and 
disagreeable, they reached the ruined city. Before com- 
mencing the work a good breakfast was disposed of from 
the supplies brought by Caesar, the mozo. First there was 
some good coffee in a wine-bottle. Heated in a tin dish 
over a fire made of dry cactus branches, it proved Jo be 
quite palatable. Then some cold chicken, cold boiled eggs, 
and bread from the hotel at Chorrillos, with a little qitcso 
or native cheese, beer, and a few grenadillas, composed a 
bill of fare which was by no means unenjoyable. 

After a walk around the decayed sides of the old 


264 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


fortress and palace, through the deserted streets, and 
climbing on the walls surrounding the city, they took 
their way, under the direction of CcTsar, to the tombs. 
These were at a little distance from the principal build- 
ings, and the ground on the way was thickly strewn 
with bones. Human skulls, bleached by the tropical 
sun, grinned at the visitors, and it was almost impos- 
sible to walk without stepping upon fragments of arms, 
legs, or ribs, scattered over the surface. Mr. Juniper 
sickened at the sight. 

‘‘ Where do these bones come from ? ” he asked of 
Caesar. 

“ From the Imacos, sehor.” 

“ Who left them here ? ” 

IMostly gringos dig them up, senor.” 

“ Why do they dig out the bones ? ” 

“ Hunting for Jnuicos, I suppose.” 

Passing through the section which was covered with 
tlie whitened bones, the party reached an elevated region 
Nvhich did not seem to have been dug over. The soil 
was a barren sand, without the slightest vegetation. 
Cmsar evidently knew the ground well, for he threw 
down the three shovels, and taking in his hand an iron 
rod about ten feet long, began sinking one end of it in 
the sand. After ai dozen attempts he threw it aside, 
took up the shovel and began digging. 

Three or four feet from the surface was the hard-pan, 
cr stony subsoil, and by probing it with the iron rod 
the opening was discovered and the grave located. 

After digging a little more than three feet his shovel 
unearthed the false head of a mummy. The grave had 
been dug through the hard-pan, and the mummy was 
iu a sitting posture, the hands clasped around the knees, 
^vhich were pressed up close to the chin. Wrapped 
.ircund the body in several folds was a coarse cotton 
cloth tied securely with heavy cords, and on the top of 
lilt head was an artificial head made of cloth and stuffed 
wi'h ('(^)tto ). 


IN WHICH HK GOP]S AFTER HFACOS 265 


As soon as Cassar came to the mummy the young 
men gathered around the grave and eagerly watched 
the process of exhumation. 

“ Look out for the lixiacosl' said Mr. Bloss, for he had 
unearthed many of these Peruvian antiquities. 

Around the feet of the corpse had been placed several 
earthen jars, and two or three were handed out by 
Cccsar. One was a tall one, with the clearly cut face 
of a man, finely executed in clay, and coloured to 
imitate nature. It was not the face of an Indian, but 
rather of a Caucasian. Another dish had beans, and 
another was dry. 

‘‘ That’s for chiclia!' said Caesar as he threw it out. 

Finally, the mummy was loosened, and the combined 
efforts of the four men were necessary to lift it to the 
surface. 

“By Jove, he’s an old settler,” said Mr. Bloss. 
“ Must have been a king or a duke, at least. Look at 
the robes he wears, will you ? ” 

A few cuts of a knife loosened the false head, which 
was thrown aside. Then Mr. Bloss, who, from his 
experience in the business, acted as master of cere- 
monies, cut the ropes which bound the outer wrappings, 
and then another cloth came in view of finer texture. 
It was some kind of a robe, and was fastened at the 
throat with a rude pin. When this pin was removed, 
it was found to be of silver, in the shape of a large 
spoon, in the centre of which was a green stone as 
large as a plum. When the pin was taken out, the 
robe, which was of linen, variously coloured, came off 
without difficulty, and revealed the ghastly figure of a 
woman. Her long black hair hung down below her 
waist in luxuriant tresses which the lapse of ages had 
not destroyed. The flesh had shrunken, but the skin 
seemed intact. Over the face and eyes the withered 
hands had been tightly drawn. On one of the arms 
near the wrist was a thick wide band of metal, and 
around the throat was a necklace of round hollow beads 


266 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


of the same substance, and the third finger of the left 
hand had a wide flat ring also of metal. 

“ Good morning, my lady,” said ^Ir. Bloss, taking one 
of the skeleton’s hands in his. How is your ladyship ? 
You have had a good long rest, and it is time for you 
to get up.” 

Mr. Juniper stood by speechless with astonishment 
and horror. 

ril take off your wig,” said Mr. Bloss, and with a 
-iiigle wrench he jerked off the long hair and threw it 
aside, leaving the skull bare and yellow. He then 
grasped the necklace, hut it could not be broken. 

“ I’ll fix you, my lady,” said he, and with the neck- 
lace in one hand and the skull in the other he gave 
the bones a sudden wrench, dislocating the vertebra, 
and the head was loose in his hand. 

“ Alas, poor Y'orick ! ” he said, looking at the closed 
eyes, and tossed the skull on the sand. The necklace 
was laid with the pottery. The armlet on the decayed 
bones refused to slip over the wrist, so the arm was 
wrenched from its socket, pulled in pieces, and the 
m(3tal removed. 

“ I’ll bet a sovereign it’s gold,” said Mr. Bloss. “ The 
old lady must have slipped that on when she was a 
girl, for it is a solid piece, and it would not go over her 
hand. Gh, fiailty, thou art a noun of the feminine 
gender ! ” 

When everything desirable had been stripped from 
the mummy, the bones were tumbled aside on the sand, 
and Ca'sar once more descended into the pit. A curious 
piece- of pottery was thrown up. It was a double jar 
connected like the Siamese twins. One side had the 
licad of a bird, and the other represented a piece of fruit. 

“ A whistling hnaco” said ]\Ir. Bloss, taking it in his 
I land. He then applied his mouth to the fruit-piece, 
and blowing a blast from his lips, a shrill and not un- 
musical whistle sounded through the open mouth of the 
bird. 


IN WHICH HE GOES AFTER HUACOS 267 


Several small pieces of metal came out, iucluding a 
pair of pincers, three or four small spoons, and others 
whose uses were unknown. 

Then Csesar announced that the work was finished. 
He came out of the pit and began gathering up his tools. 

“Don’t you cover the bones again?” asked Mr. 
Juniper. 

Caesar laughed. 

“ Why should we cover them up ? They won’t hurt 
anybody.” 

“ I think it nothing less than sacrilege this whole 
business,” said the North American to his companions. 
“ What right have we to violate these graves like 
savages, and then refuse to bury the remains ? ” 

“ Well, you are a gringo ! ” said Mr. Bloss. ‘‘ Nobody 
cares anything for such things in this country ; but to 
please you, perhaps we had better put the old lady back.” 

Under Mr. Bloss’s directions, the bones were thrown 
into the pit again, and part of the sand shovelled ba k. 

When this was finished, C^sar picked up his iron rod 
and began sinking it in the sand in the search for 
another tomb. 

“ Haven’t we had enough of this ? ” said Mr. Bly ; 
“ look at Juniper ! ” 

Whether it was the effect of the ride and exposure, 
or the horror with which he regarded the whole pro- 
ceeding, the American’s face was white as death. He 
was indubitably ill, and preparations were at once made 
for the journey homeward. 

The h'liacos with some of the cloths were placed in 
a large sack and carried by Ctesar. 

As soon as the party had mounted the horses and 
started on the ride towards Chorrillos, Mr. Juniper’s 
illness left him. 

“ Come now, old fellow,” said Mr. Bloss, “ were you 
really ill or only shamming? You looked like a ghost, 
anyway.” 

“ I was so disgusted at the thought of robbing a grave 


268 


THP] MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


that it really made me sick. If I had known what it 
was to be I should never have come.” 

“ Pooh ! that is nothing ! These tombs are thou- 
sands of years old. What difference does it make to 
any one if we overhaul them ? ” 

“ I cannot see what the age has to do with it. The 
human form is the same, whether it has been buried 
one year or a thousand years.” . 

“ This country is covered with these old graves. In 
fact, Peru’s glory is in her past rather than her ]3resent. 
Every one digs the Imacos, gringos and Peruvians. 
Many a man, like honest Csesar there, whose imperial 
forefathers are dead and turned to clay, makes a good 
living by turning over the bones of his ancestors.” 

“ But an act which is intrinsically wrong in England 
or the United States cannot be right in Peru,” said the 
American. 

“ I believe you are more than half right,” said Mr. 
Bly, “ and we are more or less wrong in this matter, as 
in many others. A young fellow comes out to these 
countries and throws off many of the restraints of 
civilised life. In England, he goes to church, keeps 
Sunday, and associates only with good people. But in 
this country he goes to bull-fights on Sunday, plays 
rocambor for stakes, robs the graves of the little gold 
he can find, and generally lets his moral nature 
grow up to weeds and nettles. We deserve all your 
indignation, and it does me good to hear you express 
yourself.” 

When they returned to Lima, Mr. Bloss made a 
division of the spoils. Mr. Juniper refused to receive 
any of the articles, and so they were equally divided 
between the other two. 

A day or two later, "Mr. P)loss came into Mr. Juniper’s 
room in the Calle Cadiz just before dinner. 

“ I say, old boy, you don’t know what you missed by 
your Puritanism. I have had the Imacos examined by 
an expert, and what do you suppose they are ? ” 


IN WHICH HE GOES AFTER HUACOS 269 


“Valuable relics, no doubt/’ said 'Sir. Juniper. 

“ The ring was solid gold. Tliat funny necklace was 
made of gold beads with a gold string. The beads 
were hollow but quite heavy, and the bracelet on her 
ladyship’s arm weighed a quarter of a pound. The 
joi/rro says it is eighteen carat gold, and was beaten out 
by hand. What do you think of that ? ” 

“ I congratulate you.” 

‘‘ But the pin the duchess had at her throat was the 
best of all. It is of silver, and the stone is a genuine 
emerald. I am going to send it to Paris to be cut. It 
is worth a hundred pounds.” 


CHAPTEE XXVII 

WITHIN THE SHADOW 

It had been a very warm summer in Lima. The sun 
beat down with fervent heat, and the man was fortu- 
nate who could remain at home until late in the after- 
noon, when the sea-breeze sprang up to cool the air. 
And yet the night did not seem much cooler than the 
day. After the sun went down, a long, thin spectral 
bank of vapour could be seen in the air immediately 
over the city, as if the miasma from the acequias 
gathered in a mass to poison the air. 

The Alcalde of Lima was ambitious to become the 
President of Peru, so he favoured every possible muni- 
cipal improvement. Almost every street in Lima was 
torn up. The old-fashioned open sewers, with their 
foul torrent of sewage, green with scum and detestable 
with sickening odours, the working place of the buz- 
zards and the fear of all good citizens, were now being 
replaced by a connected system of covered drains, and 
the water supply which had recently been established 
from the Eimac promised to make a great reform in 
the domestic life of the Limenos. 

But it was dangerous work opening so many old 
sewers with their long-standing accumulations. As 
soon as the hot weather began several cases of yellow 
fever appeared in Callao. Where they came from no 
one knew, but it was said that a Frencli barque from 
Guayaquil brought a sick man who was sent on shore 
lO a l)oardiiig-]iouse, and from there the disease spread. 
Callao was dirtier than Lima, for the town was so low 

270 


k 


WITHIN THE SHADOW 


271 


and the land so level that the drainage was very defec- 
tive. In a few weeks, the disease increased so that the 
people were panic-stricken. The fever spread to Lima, 
where the vitiated air, the great heat, and the filthy 
habits of the poor people seemed to feed it, and daily 
the death -list increased, and men looked at each other 
in mortal terror, knowing not who would be the next 
victim. 

Mr. Juniper kept at his work in the office of Hayner 
& Company. At first the fever raged among the 
Chinese, the negroes, and the cholos, the poorer classes 
whose circumstances prevented the necessary attention 
to sanitary measures. Among the coolies who worked 
on the sewers the disease was particularly fatal, and 
the bulletin of the physicians showed a steady increase 
in the number of cases, and the number of deaths grew 
from one or two daily, up to ten, twenty, and thirty. 
Then, as the sun seemed to burn everything it shone 
upon, the number of deaths suddenly shot up to 
seventy-five in one day. 

When it reached this stage, every one was alarmed. 
Prominent business houses began to lose their men. 
At Hayner & Company’s, two of the clerks had been 
taken with the fever and both had died. IMr. Hayner 
failed to appear one morning, and it was soon learned 
that he had the disease, but in a mild form. At the 
bank where the company did its business, every one 
was ill except the manager and two clerks. Even the 
porter had died. 

Every morning great carts drawn by three mules 
made the rounds of the streets, and carried away the 
dead bodies, with only a blanket thrown over them to 
shut out the blazing heat of the sun. At the cemetery 
a long trench was dug in the ground at night, and 
when the carts came in with their load, they were 
driven alongside and the bodies thrown in like so many 
sticks of wood, and then the earth was shovelled over 
them, without shroud or shrift. The men who drove 


2/2 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


the carts ami the men who shovelled the dirt were 
generally negroes, and custom had so brutalised them 
that they were heard to laugh at their horrid work, 
and even to joke a])out the poor dead victims, as the 
corpses were tumbled together in the open ditch. 

Of course, these carts were for the poor people and 
those who had no friends to give them better sepulture. 
The rich still buried their dead in niches or vaults, 
with the pomp of mourning robes and the service of 
the priest; but every ceremony was shortened, and 
even the priests were getting scarce, for many of them 
started for the interior as soon as the danger appeared. 
The hospitals were full, and every house seemed a 
hospital, but the nuns w^ere everywhere, always at the 
worst places, and always working with a will to aid 
the sick and comfort the afflicted. 

Business was almost suspended. In the French 
house of Burger y Cia., all the employes were stricken 
down with the fever except the cashier, and finally 
he sickened and died. The acting French Consul at 
Callao was called in, and he put his consular seals 
on the safe and all the doors, and then notified the 
authorities in Paris, for every one connected with the 
house in Lima was dead. 

Still the Chinese coolies worked in the blazing sun 
at the sewers, and every morning they drove away a 
big flock of gaunt buzzards that had been revelling 
during the night at the foul stream that gave its putrid 
vapours to the air. In the daytime, the gallinaces sat 
on the tops of the buildings, watching the workmen 
in the street, and occasionally, when they were not 
watched, descending stealthily to the sewers, or else 
circled high in the air, where they looked like eagles 
floating above the city. It was noticed that immediately 
above the Pantheon these disgusting birds were tlie 
most numerous, and along its walls whole rows of the 
ugly sentinels sat looking with their stony eyes upon 
the passers-by. 


WITHIN THE SHADOW 


273 


In the house in the Calle Cadiz the young men had 
escaped almost miraculously. Yet there were probably 
good reasons for it. Young vigorous men of good 
habits were safer than the people who lived in tilth 
and were unacquainted with soap and water, and it 
was noticed that foreigners of regular habits, who 
avoided the night air and went to bed in good season, 
generally- escaped the plague, while young men who 
spent their nights in dissipation were the first to take 
it, and always had it in its severest form. Then, too, 
it developed the fact that Peruvians and cholos had 
far less physical stamina than Englishmen or other 
Europeans, and they succumbed much more certainly 
when once attacked by the disease. Fright seemed 
also to add to the real danger. Many a Peruvian 
made himself ill by worrying over the disease, and 
as soon as he experienced the first symptoms, the 
priest was sent for, and the poor victim received 
the rites of the Church, and then had nothing to do 
but die. 

The adjacent watering-places along the sea-shore 
seemed to escape almost entirely. Miraflores had no 
cases, and at Chorrillos only two or three persons had 
it, and then not seyerely. 

At the office of Hayner & Company, Mr. Juniper and 
one other clerk constituted the whole force, while in 
the factory only half-a-dozen men were at work. There 
was almost a total suspension of business. 

On Saturday morning, Mr. Juniper had just taken up 
his work at the desk, when a coloured man came in. 
He was the mayor-domo at the Lopez residence, and 
his face was familiar to Mr. Juniper. He was a 
Jamaica negro, who spoke English as it is spoken in 
some of the West India islands. 

“ Please yer anner,'’ said he mournfully, “ I wish you 
could come and see my young man. He’s drefful sick. 
Everybody’s sick in the house, and I don’t know which 
way to turn.” 

S 


274 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“ I’ll come at once, Sam,” said Mr. Juniper. “ When 
was Mr. Nokes taken ? ” 

“ This is the third day, and he’s drefful sick.” 

The Lopez house presented a pitiable siglit. In the 
salcL the emblems of mourning bad been partially re- 
moved. Strips of black crape were yet crossed diagon- 
ally over the mirrors and some of the windows. The 
smaller children had been sent in charge of the nurses 
to the hacienda. But Mr. Nokes and his wife, as well 
as Senora Lopez and her two eldest daughters, were all 
ill. That afternoon Mrs. Nokes died, and her husband 
in the adjoining room was delirious with the fever. 

Mr. Juniper sent Sam back to the office to say that 
he would not return until the next day. He took his 
seat by the side of Mr. Nokes’ bed, anxious to be of 
service to his friend. Sam arranged a room for him 
near by, and he sat by the sufferer until past midnight, 
and then retired for a few hours of rest. 

In the morning Mr. Hokes was slightly better, but 
Mrs. Lopez was growing worse. The doctor hurried in 
to see her twice during the day, but shook his head 
sadly both times. In the night she died, and early the 
next morning Mr. Juniper and the priest followed the 
remains to the Pantheon, where another niche was filled 
in the section owned by the Lopez family. There were 
now but two left, the two nearest the ground. 

The young ladies were still very ill, but they were 
receiving every possible attention from the Sisters of 
Charity. Two of them were in constant attendance 
at the bedside of the young ladies, and on alternate 
nights, and then two took their places. 

Mr. Hokes was getting better. His delirium left 
him, and when he recognised IMr. J uniper one morning, 
his wan face lighted up with a grateful smile. 

“ I am almost well now,” said he, “ and I think 
you had better call my wife, and then go and take a 
little rest. You look tired, and I know I am past the 
danger.” 


WITHIN THE SHADOW 


275 


]\Ir. Juniper did not have the heart to tell him of his 
wife’s death. That night while ^Fr. Juniper was taking 
his dinner, Mr. Nokes insisted on sitting up in his bed, 
contrary to Sam’s advice. Shortly after Mr. Juniper’s 
return he was taken with a severe chill, the fever 
returned, and by ten o’clock he was wildly delirious. 
The doctor came, but could give no hope. Shortly 
after midnight he was dead. Don Jose Lopez, who 
was at the hacienda, was sent for, and reached the 
house just before Mr. IS’okes died. 

^Ir. Juniper watched by the side of his friend as 
long as hope lasted, and then silently withdrew to his 
own room. He had an excruciating pain in his head, 
and when he began to consider the possibility of taking 
the fever, it occurred to him in his weariness that it 
would not be such a frightful visitation as he had for- 
merly pictured it. Familiarity with the disease had 
softened its terrors, and even death itself seemed a 
very natural event, so soon do we become accustomed 
to the awfulness of dissolution. 

Sam came to his room just as he was about to retire. 
His honest face wore a look of pain. 

“ Better let me git the doctor,” he said. ‘‘ I’m afraid 
yer anner’s goin’ to be sick. You look mighty bad.” 

“Oh, pshaw, Sam,” said Mr. Juniper, “I am not ill. 
I am only tired. I have not had a night’s sleep for a 
week. T am going to drop right down here without 
undressing, and I’ll be all right in the morning. It is 
only half-past twelve,” looking at his watch, “ and I’ll 
get a good night’s sleep. Good night, Sam.” 

Sam left, but he was disappointed. Mr. Juniper felt 
for his pocket-book in the inner pocket of his waist- 
coat, where he had shown it to Sam the night before, 
then blew out the candle, and in a few minutes he had 
dropped to sleep. 

It was not long before he was at home again among 
the giant pine-trees of Wisconsin. The wind sighed 
mournfully among the branches, and cast showers of 


2/6 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


fine snow along the fiosty road, whitening the backs 
of the horses and covering the load of logs upon his 
sleigh. As it fell in a fine white dust, the sunlight 
streaming through the trees gilded each particle of 
snow so that it glistened like a diamond, and tlien the 
fine dust gradually increased in size until each particle 
was as large as an acorn, and each acorn was a real 
diamond. Diamonds fell in the snow, and diamonds 
covered the road before him, so that they worked their 
way into the feet of the horses, and both horses com- 
menced to walk lame. Then the trees began to move 
around. Some one was playing a violin. Strange that 
he had not noticed the music before, and how funny it 
looked to see great pine-trees circle to the left, clumi 
out and join hands turn on the corners, and dance like 
men and women ! Wliile the trees danced in the stiffest 
and awkwardest manner possible, one of them suddenly 
stopped and bent down its head, which broke a liole in 
the side of the house, when out rolled a stream of bright 
yellow gold pieces. One of the trees whispered from 
its top in a ghostly voice, “ That is your money. Take 
it 1 ” He was picking it up, and thinking how it would 
please Celia to see so much of the gold, when it all 
dropped from his hands into the sea, and then the ship 
glided along over the water for weeks and weeks, always 
out of sight of land. After many days of anxious watch- 
ing, the land finally appeared. Celia stood on the 
wharf at Oshkosh waiting for him as the ship came in 
sight. She wore her school-dress, but her fiuffy hair 
was hanging loosely in curls down her back. When 
he drew near, he saw that she had been w^eeping, but 
her face lighted up wfith the old sweet smile at sight 
of him. 

There were strange people around him. Why were 
they there ? Had anything happened in the factory ? 
The machinery in the factory stopped all at once. 
Perhaps it wbls a feast-day, but why should it have 
started at all ? 


WITHIN THE SHADOW 


277 


Something oppressed him so he could hardly l)reathe. 
It seemed as if there was a great load on his chest 
which prevented him from inhaling the air. Nerving 
himself to overcome the difficulty, he clenched his hands 
together and drew in all the air he could, which was very 
little. Then he went to sleep. How delicious sleep 
seemed after such ridiculous sights as he had been 
seeing! — trees dancing, and diamonds dropping like 
hail, and streams of gold pieces! He would like to 
sleep for a week. He realised that he was asleep, for 
he breathed heavily and his eyes wei’e closed. He had 
been through a hard week’s work with !Hr. Steele. It 
was Sunday morning, so he v\ ould sleep as long as he 
wanted to. A steamer whistled out in the bay, but he 
would not get up to see what it was. 

Then his arm pained him. He raised it, but it struck 
something ; and as he turned his head slightly, he felt 
that there was sometliing just over him. He was too 
weak to rise, and at the time he was not suiprised. A 
few minutes later he tried again, and found that the 
wall was so close to him that he could not raise his 
hand to his head. He breathed slowly and painfully, 
and when he opened his eyes, he found he was in utter 
darkness. Where was he ? He tried to call Sam, but 
the sound he made was so low that his own ear could 
not detect it. Perhaps he was dead. Well, it would 
not matter. It would be rest, and lie felt so weary 
and weak that simple rest was the best tiling for him. 

Then he said to himself — for he was a man — “ This 
is death. This is the end of all. God help me !” 

And as the full meaning of his situation gradually 
spread through his partially benumbed faculties, a feel- 
ing of horror surged over him, weak as he was, and he 
could feel the perspiration gather on his forehead, and 
drops of sweat fell into his eyes, and even in his mouth. 
Like a gleam of light in his agony came to his mind the 
words he had heard at Trinity Church at Oshkosh long 
years before, and he found himself slowly repeating, 


278 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“ I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of 
heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ His only Son, 
our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born 
of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was 
crucified, dead, and buried. He descended into hell, 
the third day He rose again from the dead. Pie as- 
cended into heaven, and sitteth at the right haed of 
God the Father Almighty, from whence He shall come 
to judge the quick and the dead.*’ 




CflArXEK XXVIII 
DEATH AND LIFE 

The body of Mr. Xokes was buried early in the morn- 
ing by Don Jose Lopez. Mr. Juniper was ill with the 
fever, and so delirious that he could be kept in his bed 
with difficulty. The faithful Sam watched over him 
like a brother. Twice every day the doctor dropped 
in to see him, but the doctor’s principal order was to 
keep the patient well wrapped up, so as to prevent a 
chill, and bring about a perspiration if possible. 

On the third day, the sufferer appeared to be quieter, 
although still wild with delirium. Don Jose directed 
Sam to call another servant in the afternoon, and go 
with him to the hacienda. Eegretfully Sam turned 
over the charge of his patient to Domingo, the second 
steward, with an abundance of cautioning to keep Mr. 
Juniper covered and watch him closely. 

It was after six o’clock the next afternoon when Sam 
returned from the hacienda. The house was very quiet, 
as he went through the callejon to the side-door and 
passed into the kitchen. Domingo sat on a chair, with 
his chin resting on both hands, watching the cook pre- 
paring the dinner. 

“ Poor man’s dead, Sam,” said he. 

“ What ? Mr. Juniper dead ? ” 

“Died this morning. I buried him this afternoon 
at four o’clock.” 

Sam staggered into a chair, completely broken up. 
The young gringo had always been kind to him, and he 
firmly believed that if he had not gone to the hacienda 
he could have saved the life of his patient. 

279 


28 o 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


He inquired all about the case, but there was not 
much to tell. As Domingo made it known, Mr. Juniper 
grew worse in the night, and seemed so weak from the 
exhaustion that he lay perfectly still. The doctor came 
in about eleven o’clock in the morning, walked to the 
side of the bed and found him dead. Domingo had 
been sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed and had 
dropped asleep. The doctor’s entrance had awakened 
him. Mr. Juniper had died while Domingo slept. 
Domingo drew a sheet over the patient and came away. 

The doctor had given the order to the undertaker, 
and at three o’clock that afternoon two men came Nvith 
a hearse and a plain coffin. The body had been placed 
in the coffin and carried down to the hearse. One of 
the men then hurried back to the shop, and Domingo 
had ridden with the driver on the hearse to the Pan- 
theon. The last niche owned by the Lopez family was 
used by the doctor’s orders, ami tlie remains of the poor 
Americano were put away with only two cliolos to act 
as mourners. 

“ Garambci ! ” said Sam, after a pause, “ did you see 
his pocket-book ? ” 

“ Nacla ! ” replied Domingo, “ do you suppose I’d 
touch his pocket-book ? ” 

“ But he had his pocket-book inside his waistcoat. 
He showed it to me the night before he was taken sick, 
and he told me it held all he had in the world. And 
his wateh ? Did anybody take that ? ” 

“ Nobody took nothing,” said Domingo. I helped 
them put him in the coffin. He was so waini that he 
wasn’t stiff, and we had sueh hard work to lift him that 
Juan slammed him in as fast as he could, and then 
fastened on the cover.” 

Sam said no more, but the thought of that pocket- 
book haunted him. When the dinner was ready, the 
servants ate in silence, for there was no one in the 
house but the Sister of Charity who was watching over 
the senoritas, now slowly convalescing. 


DEATH AND LIFE 


281 


After dinner Sam smoked a yellow cigarette, and 
pondered over the pocket-book, the money, and the 
watch. He was sure Mr. Juniper would have given 
them to him had he been at the bedside when the poor 
young man died. 

There must have been several hundred dollars in the 
pocket-book. If he had it now, he could go back to 
Jamaica and see his old fadder and mudder before they 
died. It was the one chance in a lifetime, and he had 
lost it. 

A poor man don’t stand no chance in this country, 
anyway. When he came to Peru from I^anania ten 
years before, times was so flush he was goin’ to make 
rich right away, but somehow he hadn’t got ahead 
much. If he only had that pocket-book ! 

There was the little whitewashed hut under the palm- 
trees in Jamaica. He could see it and the crowd of 
coloured boys and girls under the trees. How he would 
like to go back there ! He would walk right up to the 
old place without saying anything to anybody, and then 
see if they’d know him. His old mudder would know 
him, he was sure of that. It was goin’ on twenty years 
since he left, and he had aged a good deal since then, 
for he had the yellow fever in Panama, and it left him 
all broke up, and since he’d been in Lima his hair had 
begun to get grey. Of course he wasn’t old yet, for he 
felt about as young as he ever did. 

How mean it was to lose that pocket-book when it 
was so near bein’ his ! And to think of it buried with 
a dead man, where it wouldn’t do nobody no good! 
AVhy couldn’t he get it ? 

Sam lighted another cigarette from the candle on the 
kitchen-table. He wished he had the courage to walk 
right up to the Pantheon and get that pocket-book and 
the watch. He knew the North American wanted him 
to have it. But folks say there is ghosts around a 
graveyard, and Sam shuddered as he thought of it. 

He mused a while over the second cigarette. Don 


282 THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 

Francisco had told him many a time there was no such 
thing as ghosts. When a man is dead he’s dead, and 
that is the end of him. There was the pocket-book, 
and a good watch that kept time, and if he had them 
he could take the steamer for I’anama, and in three 
weeks he would be at home with his ole mudder. 
Think of it ! Ccirajo ! he’d go. 

Sam was an honest coloured man, and not too bril- 
liant, but when an idea worked its way into his head 
it moved him. He decided to go to the Tantheon and 
see if he could find the tomb. Then, if he could get 
into it, he would try to open the coffin and get the 
pocket-l)ook and the watch. 

It was getting dark. The sky down towards Callao 
was a bright yellowish-red, v/here the sun had gone 
down into the Pacific. It was growing a little cooler 
as the sea-breeze freshened, but it was still warm. 

Sam walked u}> the narrow side-walk, past the mill 
of Santa Clara, around the church, and on by the long 
row of little one-storey houses, where every other door- 
way opened into a long callejon, stretching back through 
the block, with a row of small huts on either side, the 
lane filled with half-naked children. 

When he came to the great gate of the cemetery he 
stopped. Why didn’t he bring Domingo with him ? 
It was skeery business this prowling among dead men 
in the dark. But he knew Domingo woulcl make him 
divide, and then perhaps there wouldn't be enough to 
take him back to Jamaica. 

As he stood at the entrance, where one of the gates- 
hung open, he heard the rattle of wheels coming along 
the street, and in a few minutes a hearse drawn by a 
single horse drove up. lie could see it was the hearse 
used for the poor people. Once the body of it had been 
black, but time had worn off the paint, so it was now a 
ghastly grey. On the top was a wooden cross, and he 
could see that it was drawn by an old brown mule 
instead of a horse. Two men sat on the seat, the 


DEATH AND LIFE 


283 

driver wearing a broad hat with a Ijig blaek ribbon, 
and a gentleman, well dressed, with a silk hat. Evi- 
dently some member of his family had fallen a victim 
to the plague, and he was compelled to use the only 
vehicle he could find unemployed. 

Sam was about to give it up, hut he nerved himself 
again by thinking of the pleasure it would give his ole 
mudder to see him back in Jamaica. After the hearse 
had passed in he followed slowly, and when he went 
under the arbour with the long green vines, he waited 
until the two men with the coffin passed out of sight. 

Slowly and with palpitating heart he walked in the 
direction of the Lopez tombs. His breath almost failed 
him when he caught sight of the section which he knew 
to be the resting-place of the family. There was the 
niche containing the body of his old master, and then 
there were three or four others, newer and fresher. 
As he stood for an instant trying to locate the coffin 
of the young American, a supernatural swishing noise 
burst upon liis ear ; he gave a suppressed shriek and 
fell upon his knees, covering his eyes with his hands. 
Nothing touched him, however, and when he ventured 
to look in the direction whence the sound came, he saw 
a long black gallinace, which had just alighted on the 
top of a row of niches back of him. lire foul bird was 
craning its ugly neck, and evidently watching his move- 
ments in the grey light of the stars. Was it instinct 
only that influenced the gaunt scavenger to follow him 
thus in the darkness, or did it reason, as man would 
reason, that Sam’s visit meant spoils and food ? 

It took Sam fully fifteen minutes to recover his wits. 
Then he advanced to the front of the lowest niche, for 
Domingo had described it to him, and with his knife he 
easily loosened the fresh mortar and pulled down the 
piece of marble which Tiled the opening. He could see 
the end of the plain coffin made of Oregon pine, planed, 
but not varnished or painted. His courage had returned, 
and he proceeded with the work quietly and slowly. The 


284 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


piece of marble was placed directly at the month of the 
niche, the bottom resting on the ground. Beaching for- 
ward he grasped the end of the coffin with botli hands 
and pulled it gently towards him. In five minutes he 
had slipped it along the pi<'ce of marble until it was all 
out of the niche and wholly resting on the ground. Then 
his knife was inserted under the lid and a prying motion 
easily loosened it, for it was held in place only by two 
small screws. Lifting the board free of the coffin, he laid 
it so that one edge rested upon the ground and the other 
leaned against the coffin, and then turned to look for the 
watch and the pocket-book. A sheet from the bed had 
been wrapped around the body when it was lifted into 
the coffin. As he pulled the sheet aside his blood con- 
gealed in his veins for an instant as he heard a voice 
say— 

“ Oh ! Sam, help me ! ” 

Horror, fear, and consternation gave place to joy in 
poor Sam’s breast. Before he could understand himself 
he sank on his knees by the side of the coffin, his hands 
trembling as if with the ague. He could not run away, 
for his limbs refused to move, and at first he could not 
believe his ears, so he waited in speechless fright until 
he again heard the voice. 

“ Sam, I wish you would give me a drink of water.” 

“Lord Almiglity, Mr. Juniper,” said the terrified 
Sam, “ I was afraid you was dead. Keep yourself well 
kivered up and I’ll git the water.” 

Then, his tremor of excitement having passed off, he 
was really exercised for the safety of the young man, so 
he carefully pulled the sheet across the patient’s breast 
and told him to keep quiet for a minute. Then with a 
bound like a deer he rushed away in the direction of a 
light which was burning in a small house on the main 
walk near the arbour. 

It required only a few words to explain the circum- 
stances to the cholo and his wife who lived in the house 
and looked after the flowers. With two or three heavy 


DEATH AND LIFE 


285 


blankets and a vicuna robe the three returned to the 
open coffin. The young man was carefully wrapped in 
the blankets, and the two men easily carried him in their 
arms to the house, where he was placed in the bed. 

Completely exhausted from the fever, which had been 
broken by the perspiration, and still close to death’s 
door, the young man sank into a profound slumber. 
He was so weak that to Sam’s watchful eye it was a 
question whether his condition was that of sleep or of 
the unconsciousness which borders on death, but the 
slight movement of the chest at regular intervals showed 
that he was alive. The cJwlo and his wife soon retired 
to another room, but Sam kept his place by the bedside, 
where he scarcely took his eye from his patient. 

Two or three times in the night the ground shook 
with the sound of wheels, as the hearses made their 
visits to the cemetery wdth more victims; but Sam 
w^atched by the lonely bedside with the same careful 
attention. The grey dawn appeared, and then the sun 
burst into sight, and flooded everything with its rich 
golden light, and the few stray birds in the tree- tops 
chirped a welcome to the new day, in a sad debilitated 
whistle. 

When he awoke after daylight, the young man w^as 
very weak, but the fever was gone. Huring the day, 
Sam had sent to the city for the doctor ; but when he 
came, the doctor declared the patient in good condition, 
and advised only careful nursing. 

In the morning the cholo had removed the coffin to 
his house, and closed the opening in the niche, leaving 
it as it was before Sam’s visit. 

Day after day Mr. Juniper lay upon the bed, trying 
to distinguish the noises he heard, and fixing in his 
mind somelhing of the experience he had passed 
through. Sam had not told him, but he could plainly 
see that he was not in his room at the Lopez residence, 
Neither was he in his own room at the Mess. He knew 
he had been very sick, and perhaps they had taken him 


286 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


out to the hacienda, for he heard the birds sing in the 
morning. 

One afternoon he had just taken a dish of caldo from 
Sam, and he felt himself almost well. He sat up in the 
bed, and insisted on knowing where he was. He was 
well enough now to talk. 

Sam told liim the whole story. His waistcoat had . 
been taken ofT, and it now hung on a chair before him. 
There was the watch which had been his brother’s, with 
its chain made from his mother’s hair, and the mark 
where it had been cut by the bullet. He pulled it 
toward him, and found the pocket-book with its notes 
and pieces of gold, just as he had seen it last. 

He sank back on the bed with his eyes closed. 
Something like a moisture gathered in his eyes as he 
repeated the Lord’s Prayer quietly to himself, and the 
thouglit of Celia and tlie future came to him as a balm 
to his wounded spirits, and he slept. 

A week later a coach drove into the Pantheon. 
Before he took it, Mr. Juniper went to the outer room 
of the sexton’s house. There was the collin, made of 
Oregon pine, unpainted and unvarnished. A curious 
smile lighted up his countenance when he recognised 
it was one that was made by Hayner & Company. 
While the epidemic raged, the factory had been manu- 
facturing the coffins, and this was one of them. 

He took the coach, and was driven at once to the 
house in the Calle Cadiz. 


CHAPTEE XXIX 

OLD FRIENDS AND NEW ENEMIES 

The fever was abating. In April the weather moderated 
and the new cases almost ceased. By the middle of 
May it was over. The streets had all been put in good 
condition, and with a complete system of sewers and 
an abundant supply of excellent water, the public health 
was likely to he greatly improved. To be sure the 
filthy habits of the men still made the public streets 
a nuisance, and the poor people continued to live in 
damp houses with no floor but the earth, and no open- 
ing except the door; but the abolition of the open 
sewers was a great step in advance. 

At the house in the Calle Cadiz Mr. Juniper spent 
several weeks in quiet rest. In spite of his youth and 
his excellent constitution he convalesced slowly. The 
shock to his nervous system was so severe that for 
weeks he feared he would never recover his usual 
strength, and as he walked with slow and measured 
step around the 'patio, or in a short excursion as far as 
the next street corner, he began to think that if he 
were compelled to drag out the remainder of his exist- 
ence as a man prematurely old, perhaps it would have 
been better after all had he been permitted to die when 
he was so near it. 

One day as he was dressing, his eye caught sight of 
sometliing white in his hair, and closer examination 
showed him that his dark locks were slightly sprinkled 
with grey. And his strength returned very slowly. 
The climate was so uniform, and so lacking in any 

287 


288 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


element which could invigorate or build up, that while 
he seemed to be improving, he remained very weak. 

There was a curious feeling in his shoulder which 
reminded him of his terrible experience, and which 
returned to trouble him while he remained in Peru, 
and promises to endure while life lasts. Whether it 
was the compression of the muscles caused by the con- 
finement, or a rupture of some of the ligaments, has 
never been decided, but since that night this dull, dis- 
agreeable pain in his left shoulder is rarely absent. 

A month after his return to the Mess he began his 
duties again in the office of Hayner & Company. For 
the first week he did not attempt to work more than 
half a day at a time, and even then he found himself 
very weary at night ; but his youth and good habits 
enabled him gradually to resume his old duties, and in 
a few weeks he was working as usual. 

He kept his room regularly every evening after 
dinner, and instead of making visits or spending a por- 
tion of the time with his friends, he spent his hours 
in reading. Early in August, while he was thus em- 
ployed one night after dinner, a servant came to his 
door and handed him a small white envelope. It con- 
tained two cards — ''James de Aubrey Langham,” and 
" Mrs. James de Aubrey Langham ” — and on Mr. Lang- 
ham’s card was written in pencil the words “Hotel 
Maury.” 

Who was James de Aubrey Langham ? He had a 
faint recollection of having heard the name before, but 
when or where he could not determine. After de- 
liberating for some minutes he arose and prepared to 
call upon Mr. Langham. When he put on his Prince 
Albert coat he was shocked to see how much too large 
it was for him, and then the weary feeling returned, as 
it had so often since his illness. 

At the Maury Hotel he was going up the marble 
stairway from the Villalta entrance when he met a 
gentleman coming down. Each stopped and stared at 


OLD FRIENDS AND NEW ENEMIES 


the other, when Mr. Juniper recognised the Eev. Mr. 
(garrison, the inissionarj, who went to Valparaiso to 
convert the Chilians, and with whom he travelled down 
the coast from Panama. The missionary was pleased 
to see him. He had arrived that morning from the 
south, and was in Eoom i6 with Mrs. Garrison, and 
they would both be glad to see him there. Mr. Juniper 
explained the object of his visit, and promised to call 
later. Then he went up the stairway and examined 
the list of guests posted upon the wall. In Eoom 17 
were Sehor Langham y Sehora,” and to Eoom 17 he 
accordingly directed his steps. 

Plis knock at the door was responded to by a tall 
bronzed Englishman, who held out his hand with 
the greeting: “Mr. Juniper, I believe!” Mr. Juniper 
recognised him after an instant as Captain Langham, 
master of the English steamer Huaco, on which Mrs. 
Upton had taken passage for Valparaiso two years 
before. He entered the room and took the sofa offered 
him by Captain Langham, when ]\Irs. Langham ap- 
peared. This time his surprise was still greater; for 
Mrs. Langham was none other than Mrs. Upton, the 
dear friend whose first husband had met with such a 
sad death from the fever at Callao. 

The lady was more charming than ever, if her attrac- 
tiveness could possibly have been enhanced. She did 
not appear to be a day older than when he had first 
met her on the steamer as a bride. She had the same 
laughing eyes and the same genial kindness, and he 
.spent a half hour in a most agreeable visit. With 
many blushes she told him that when she sailed from 
Callao, after the death of Mr. Upton, it was with no 
expectation of ever visiting Soutli America again ; that 
Captain Langham, on the voyage to Valparaiso, had 
Ijeen exceedingly kind to her, and when she left his 
ship she had given him permission to write to her. In 
May last he had come to England on his vacation, and 
in June they had been quietly married. Now he was 

T 


290 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


returning to Valparaiso, where they would reside. As 
they were stopping in Lima only while the steamer 
waited at Callao, she had determined to find Mr. 
Juniper to renew the acquaintance. Captain Langham 
had accepted a position in the Company’s office at Val- 
paraiso, and if Mr. Juniper ever came there they would 
be delighted to see him in their own home. 

Mr. Juniper congratulated both the Captain and his 
charming wife, and took his departure. 

At Eoom 1 6 he found the American missionary and 
his wife. The work at Valparaiso had not fully met 
his expectations. It needed so much time to acquire 
a knowledge of the Spanish language, and then he 
found the natives so completely under the influence 
of the priests, that the work of converting them was 
very difficult and laborious. Still, he was satisfied 
with the success he had met with in the past three 
years, and he believed the Missionary Society was also, 
for the Society was now sending him on another and a 
more difficult mission. He was going into the Ama- 
zonian regions of Peru, among the hostile and uncivi- 
lised Indians of the territory, to begin the work of 
teaching the English language and converting them 
to Christianity. He knew it was a wild and inhos- 
pitable region, and he would go there with his life in 
his hand, but the Lord would take care of him. No, 
Mrs. Garrison was not going with him. She was to 
take the steamer on Wednesday for Panama and the 
United States. He expected to remain in the Amazo- 
nian country at least two years, and then he might be 
relieved by some other worker to be sent out by the 
Society. He was going alone, save for the company of 
two Chilian assistants he had brought from Valparaiso. 
At first he should learn the Indian dialect, and, after 
establishing himself in the good graces of the Indians, 
he would begin teaching and preacliing. His only 
ambition was to do some good in the world, and this 
seemed to be the opening which gave him the loudest 


OLD FRIENDS AND NEW ENEMIES 29 1 

call. He would do his best, and leave the result with 
God. 

As he came from the missionary’s room, he met on 
the stairway two gentlemen, who were strangers, and 
Captain Langham. The Captain introduced them to 
Mr. Juniper as Americans whom he had met on the 
steamer coming from Panama — Mr. Schmit, an engi- 
neer, and Mr. Hollins, a miner, both from New York. 
They had come to Peru to look after mining interests 
in the interior. Mr. Hollins was a young man about 
twenty-four, and ^Ir. Schinit was a German aged 
about forty. 

Two days later, about five o’clock in the afternoon, 
Mr. Juniper was again at the hotel to say farewell to 
Mrs. Langham. She left with many warm expre sions 
of friendship to Mr. Juniper; and as the carriage drove 
away, the ground trembled, the side-walk began to 
shake, the row of buildings on the opposite side of the 
street rocked as if agitated by the waves of the sea, 
and the tower of San Pedro described the arc of a 
circle, as it whipped around in the air, while in Mr. 
Juniper’s ears was a buzzing, rumbling noise totally 
indescribable. At first he fully believed that his ill- 
ness had returned upon him, and he was about to call 
a carriage to be taken immediately to his room, when 
he beheld a crowd of people rushing into the streets, 
and the utmost excitement seemed to prevail every- 
where. Then he knew that the earthquake had come 
again. 

In a few minutes the shock returned, stronger and 
more teriifying than before. Almost every one in the 
hotel rushed out on the street, servants, guests, and all. 
As Mr. Schmit recognised Mr. Juniper on the side-walk, 
he said — 

‘‘ IMine Cot, Mr. Juniper, I’m sorry for mine friendt, 
Mr. Hollins. He’s sick in bed, and don’t know notting 
about dis earth-ke-vake.” 

“ What ails him ? ” 


292 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“ I’m afraid it’s perniciosa. De doctor says he’s very 
sick.” 

At Callao the earthquake was very severe. A tidal 
wave came in from the bay, and covered the town to 
a depth of four feet with the sea-water. The water 
receded, much to the joy of the people, and in fifteen 
minutes it came again, farther and deeper than before. 
Many people were drowned, and there was a complete 
hegira of men, women, and children from Lima and the 
higher ground. The night which followed was one of 
terror to the Chalacos. Xo one slept who remained in 
Callao, and guards were placed on the mole to notify 
the people, by means of fireworks, if another overflow 
was to be expected. 

The city of Arequipa, in the south of Peru, was com- 
pletely destroyed by the same shock, with a loss of 
eighty lives. Every building in the city was wrecked. 
The people fled terror-stricken into the streets, and for 
twenty-four hours the air resounded with prayers for 
preservation, while the senses were burdened with the 
odour of incense burned to propitiate the saints. 

Farther down the coast equal destruction marked the 
pathway of the seismic demon. For the second time 
the town of Arica was completely destroyed, nothing 
remaining but a shapeless mass of stones. On the sea 
the same powerful destroyer wrought his fiendish work. 
The American frigate Water ee was picked up bodily and 
deposited on a barren hill two miles inland from the coast, 
while the Fredonia, which was farther out at sea, was 
dashed in pieces, and so completely anniliilated that 
not a single soul survived from its entire list of officers 
and crew. 

Three days after the earthquake, as Mr. Juniper was 
passing the Hotel Maury, Mr. Schmit crossed over the 
street to speak to him. 

“ I’m in great trouble,” said he, “ and I want to tell 
you about it.” 

“What is it? ” asked Mr. Juniper. 


OLD FRIENDS AND NEW ENEMIES 293 

“ You know mine friendt Mr. Itollins is Jade.” 

“ Xo.” 

‘‘Yes, he died the night of the earth-ke-vake. He 
might have died anyway, but the shock didn’t do him 
no good. I buried him next day in the cemetery at 
Bellavista. Now when I come to get my bill from the 
hotel, what do you suppose they sharge me ? ” 

“ Some large figure, no doubt.” 

“ I’m perfectly willing to pay them four times what 
it is worth, but I don’t want to buy their old hotel ” 

As they walked down the street towards Espa- 
deros, Mr. Schmit took the bill from his pocket, and 
Mr. Juniper read something like this translated into 
English : — 

J. F. AY. Schmit to the Empresa of the Hotel Maury, Dr. 

To Board and Liquors, one week . . $47.00 

Idem idem (Rollins) . . 42.40 

Damage to Room 35, death of Rollins, 
injury to furniture, wall paper, paint, 
carpet, &c. &c. . . . .1100.00 

I1189.40 

“ You see it’s mighty expensive to die in this 
country,” said Mr. Schmit, with an attempt at a joke. 

Mr. Juniper shuddered, for it was a subject which 
was very sore to him. 

“AYhy don’t you see a lawyer about it ?” he asked. 

“I might shust as well pay it to the hotel as to 
the lawyer.” 

AYhen Mr. Juniper remembered his experience with 
Dr. Diaz, he began to admire Mr. Schmit’s judgment. 

“ The worst of it is,” continued Mr. Schmit, “ if I 
don’t pay it, they say they’ll arrest me. When a man 
gets into a lawsuit in this country over money, the 
next thing he gets into is the jail,” and he laughed a 
weak sort of a smile. 


294 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“ Better see the American ^Minister about it,” said Mr. 
Juniper, as he parted with ^Ir. Schmit on the corner. 

Not long after he saw Mr. Schmit on the Portal. 

“ How is your hotel bill ? ” he asked. 

“ Oh, that’s all settled,” said he. “ The next day after 
I saw you, I gits up in the morning and washes my 
face, and then I starts to go downstairs to get a little 
cock- tail before I gets my collee. Eiglit at my door 
was three soldiers, dose pretty little fellahs with red 
caps and white breeches. The first one he pointed 
his gun at me and wouldn’t let me pass, and I find 
myself a prisoner in my own room. You may be sure 
I don’t feel very good when I see that. But I sends 
down for my cock-tail and my coffee, and then I smoke 
a cigarette and says I to myself, ‘ Frederick William, 
you was in a bad fix. Better you see the American 
^Minister.’ Then I gives the boy a peseta and he takes 
a note for me to the Minister. When the Minister 
comes, I explain it all to him, and he advises me to 
get a lawyer. He finds one for me, and the first thing 
the lawyer does is to go to the judge and get the guard 
dismissed, and I gets out. Then when the Em'pvesa of 
the Maury finds that I am going to fight the case, 
they want to settle. I pay them $400, and they receipt 
the bill.” 

The missionary went into the mountains, and in a 
day or two Mr. Schmit also started for his gold-mine. 

Two years and a half later iVIr. Schmit put in an 
appearance again. This time he was at the Hotel 
Europeo. i\Ir. Juniper had encountered the man on 
the street, and iMr. Schmit urged him to call on him 
at the hotel. 

I haf many things to show you,” said he. “ I haf 
not made much money yet out of my mine, but I am 
going to New York to get up a company mit American 
capital, and then I shall do big work. I will show you 
some gold that will your eyes make out of youi* head 
stick and some funny things that the Indians make.” 


OLD FRIENDS AND NEW ENEMIES 295 


After dinner, he visited Mr. Schmit at his room in 
the Hotel Europeo. Hanging on the wall were a great 
variety of curious objects brought from the interior of 
Peru. There were head-dresses worn by the Indians 
and made of the long brilliantly coloured feathers of 
tropical birds, necklaces of monkeys’ teeth, bracelets 
of beetles’ wings, blankets made of the bark of a tree, 
drinking cups from a cow’s horn, poisoned arrows used 
by the cannibal Indians, spears, war-clubs, feather 
robes, native air-guns with which the Indians kill 
birds, and the crude weaving apparatus by which they 
make beautifully designed belts and scarfs from cotton 
yarn. 

From a trunk which he unlocked, Mr. Schmit brought 
out two small pasteboard boxes. Placing them on the 
table, he opened the first and took from it several pieces 
of a yellow substance, varying in size from that of a pea 
to a large plum. These he arranged in a row on the 
table. The contents of the two boxes were disposed of 
in the same manner, until the top of the table was almost 
covered with irregularly shaped pieces. 

“I suppose that stuff contains gold?” said Mr. Juniper. 

‘‘ It is gold,” said he ; “just heft it.” 

Closer examination showed that the pieces were all 
nuggets of pure gold, without a trace of quartz or stone 
of any kind. 

“ I tell you what, Mr. Shuniper,” said the German, 
“I don’t suppose I can ever make anybody understand 
half what I haf seen. The country where I haf been 
is just built on gold. The gold crops out from the 
ground like stone. You see dose pieces ? Well, that 
is nothing. Ever since the white man has occupied 
this country the Indians made a living by selling little 
pieces to the white men. How does the Indians get 
it ? I will tell you. 

“ When the water is low, the Indian puts a row of 
stones along the edge of the river, then the high water 
comes and brings down the sand and dirt, and when 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


296 

the water gets low again, he finds little chunks of gold 
beside the stones. One little trap like that will sup- 
port him for a year.” 

“ Where is this country ? ” 

“ On the other side of the Andes. It is many miles 
from here.” 

Why is not the gold developed ? ” 

“ Oh, the Indians ! Thousands of white men have 
lost their lives trying to get into that country. To get 
there, you must fight your way through the worst can- 
nibals God ever made. Twice they almost had me. 
You see that arm ? A poisoned arrow struck me there, 
and only for my Chileno man I would haf died. My 
man he sucked the poison out with his tongue. He saved 
my life, but my arm will always be a little lame.” 

Mr. Schmit opened another trunk. 

“ Here’s a curious thing I want to show you. Now 
what do you suppose that is ? ” 

He placed in Mr. Juniper’s hand something that 
looked like the head of a child’s doll. It had long black 
hair, the features of a man, with a tattooed face with- 
out beard, and resembling somewhat a human head 
reduced to about one-third its original size. It was 
of a dark leather colour, and the countenance was ugly 
and repulsive. 

Mr. Juniper shuddered as he handled the strange 
object. 

“ It looks like a baby’s head,” said he. 

“ It’s an Indian’s head,” said tlie German ; ‘‘ that’s the 
way I would be if they had caught me. When those 
scoundrels take a prisoner, they cut off his head, then 
they haf a big feast, and they gather a big crowd of 
Indians, and they eat the body of the poor fellah what 
gets caught, and they haf lots of music, and they all 
get drunk.” 

But that don’t Ic ok like a man’s head.” 

‘ You see it is all prepared and made smaller. In 
suiiie counti’ies like Nord America, por the 


OLD FRIENDS AND NE^Y ENEMIES 297 

Indians takes off the scalp of the prisoner they kills, 
but in the Amazonas they cut off the head. Every war- 
rior carries at his belt the heads of his victims, fastened 
by the hair, which is long. When the head is first cut 
off, it is soaked in some vegetable liquid that softens 
all the bone. Then the bone is all taken out and the 
inside is filled with certain gums and leaves that the 
old women prepares, and that dries the flesh and shrinks 
it so that it is small just as you see.” 

“ How did you get it ? ” 

“ I bought all these things from some of the friendly 
Indians. But I haf one more.” 

He went to the trunk again and brought forth a 
second dried head. This one was of a different kind. 
The hair was short and sandy, the face had a brown 
beard and moustache, and the complexion was fair but 
badly sunburned. Unquestionably it was not the head 
of an Indian. 

“ What is that ?” asked Mr. Juniper. 

“ That is one of the same kind of heads. I bought 
it from the same Indians, but I think this was a white 
man instead of an Indian.” 

Mr. Juniper regarded the poor withered semblance 
of humanity with pity and horror. The skin and flesh 
of the head had shrunk so that it was not more than 
three or four inches in diameter, but the original 
lineaments were reduced to a miniature of the living 
man. The eyeballs had been removed, but the droop- 
ing, closed lids were there, and even the moustache 
and whiskers retained the appearance which they 
must have had in life, although it was easy to be seen 
that the countenance was disturbed. 

As he gazed upon the dreadful object, there was a 
familiar look about the eyes and forehead, and he studied 
it closely for several minutes, trying to remember who 
it reminded him of. 

That night, as he lay in bed, the recollection of the 
distorted features of the dried head rose in his mind 


298 THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 

and appeared to him in his dreams, but still he could 
not decide the identity of the face which it looked like. 

The next d iy, Mr. Schmit, with his museum of curio- 
sities, took the steamer for Panama on his way to the 
United States. 

About a month later, while he was at work at his 
desk in the office of Hayner & Company, two natives 
asked for him. In the outer office stood the men, clad 
in piaichos, with the guinea-pig-skin shoes and straw 
hat of the so'anos, and their faces and hands show^ed 
that they had just come from the mountains. One of 
them handed him a package which he opened and found 
to be an Englisli Bible, a strongly bound book. On 
the liy-leaf a name was written, but it was so dis- 
coloured that he could not decipher it. 

It was half an hour before he could understand what 
they tried to tell him, for their Spanish was guttural 
and hard to comprehend. At last he made out that 
they were Chilenos on their way back to Valparaiso — 
that they had been in the sierras with the Eev. Mr. 
Oarrison, the American missionary. 

“Where is Mr. rJarrison?’' asked Mr. Juniper. 

“ He is dead.” 

"Wlien did he die ? ” 

“ It makes six months that he is dead of the 
Indians.” 

“ Why did they kill him ? ” 

“ Bad Indians no like missionary. Cut off his head.” 

They had brought Mr. Juniper all they had been 
able to recover of his effects. In a few minutes they 
departed, and he saw them no more. 

When he retired that night a thought struck him. 

“ It was Mr. Garrison’s head, after all.” 


CHAPTEK XXX 

THE BELLS OF SAN PEDRO 

Me. Juniper did not entirely recover from the effects 
of the fever for several years. By the advice of Mr. 
Hayner, he visited the neighbouring seaport of Ancon, 
and spent several weeks there endeavouring to recupe- 
rate his health. 

The contents of his pocket-book, which at the time 
of his illness had really contained all his earnings, he 
gave to the faithful Sam, who at once took the steamer 
for Panama to make his visit to the ole fadder and 
mudder in Jamaica, blessing with his last word the 
name of the young Americano. 

While he felt that the Jamaican had deserved the 
gift for his daring rescue, still the payment of such a 
sum left him in a w^orse condition than he had ever 
been. It was not only all that he had been able to 
accumulate during his residence in the country, and 
he found himself as to money just where he was three 
years before, but, when he considered his shattered 
liealth, and the probability that he would never fully 
recover liis former strength, the outlook did not appear 
veiy propitious. 

He had come to Peru confident that in a few years 
he would conquer fate, and build for himself a name 
and a position which would give him a start in life. 
AYhile he had neglected nothing which could legiti- 
mately advance him on the road towards his goal, he 
had to admit that life brings to the average man much 
more of disappointment than of success, more of defeat 


300 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


than of conquest, and day after day he followed his 
round of duties with a heavy h( art. 

Eeally there was very little light ahead. His assidu- 
ous attention to his labours in the office brought him a 
regular income, but at the end of a year his savings 
were not large, and it was not difficult to calculate that 
it would take many dreary years of labour before even 
a respectable sum was amassed, and in the meantime 
he was running the risk of more illness and perhaps 
death. 

His position was improved somewhat when Mr. 
Hayner took a leave of absence f* r a year to visit 
England, and left him in charge of the factory. 

It was a calm beautiful evening just before Christ- 
mas. Mr. Juniper was in his room according to his 
custom, but he was in no mood for either reading or 
writing. The vault of heaven above was resplendent 
with a field of bright stars which glistened in white 
masses of light as if throwing off electricity. A new 
moon, like a larger star, was resting its curved surface 
in the zenith, and the air was soft and limpid, like a 
night in June of the northern hemisphere. The whole 
effect was to soften his feelings and bring a brood of 
sombre thoughts, visitors which had been quite common 
since his illness. 

He turned to his desk, where he found a paper 
containing something he had written on the steamer 
Pachacamac, when he made his voyage down the 
coast. 

He read it over for the first time since he had put it 
aside on the steamer. It was as follows : — 


THE SOUTHERN CROSS. 

When I behold thy silv’ry i-adiance pure, 

As soft it steals upon me from the skies, 
My soul is filled with holy peace secure, 

And ev’ry thought of pain within me dies. 


THE BELLS OF SAN PEDRO 


-301 


God’s love to man, tlie highest, grandest thought 
That finite mind alone can grasp on earth. 

Appeals to me by living symbol wrought 
In scroll divine, eternal from its birth. 

It matters not that storm and tempest rage, 

And troublous clouds obscure the face of night, 
Above it all thy sweetest rays presage. 

Return of sunshine and of joyous light. 

From deej^est, darkest sorrow here below, 

Thy holy light attracts and leads above 
The mind of man from earthly sin and woe, 

A sacred emblem of the heavenly love. 

Thus ill the darkness of eternal night. 

When every worldly hope is lost to me. 

May tliy sweet radiance prove a light 

To safely guide me to my home with thee. 

Then he found another, written just after he had 
entered upon his duties in the steamship office at 
Callao, and when the thought of tliose he had left at 
home was still fresh in his mind. It was entitled 

WHILE OCEANS ROLL BETW^EEN US. 

While oceans roll betw'een us, 

In lands so. far apart. 

There’s still a tie betwixt us 
Which binds us heart to heart. ^ 

A mystic, sweet communion, 

Of souls bound two in one, 

AVhose heavenly spirit covers 
All lands beneath the sun. 

It matters not the distance 
That lies between us two. 

My soul with every heart-beat 
Vibrates with love for you. 

At night, when all is silence. 

And sleep should calm my mind, 

I wander through the darkness, 

A kindred soul to find. 



302 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


In 'daytime as I lal )Our, 

Engrossed with carkiiig care, 
A sweet face comes l)efore me, 
Enricliing all the air. 

Mine ear is tuned to music 
Which comes across the sea, 
Like softest notes celestial, 

’Tis heard by you and me. 

Though oceans roll between us. 
Distant as pole from pole. 
There’s still a tie betwixt us, 
Uniting soul to soul. 


After his removal to Lima, his labours in the office 
of Hayner & Company had given him a feeling of inde- 
])endence and contentment which he had not known 
before. He had then expressed himself in a different 
vein. When he read this, he could not fail to contrast 
its lofty spirit with the feeling which animated him 
then : — 


I LIVE IN THE HIGHEST HEAVEN. 

I live in the highest heaven, 

I am king of the upper air, 

I float in the dreamy ether, 

I acknowledge no equal there. 

My soul is in close comunmion 
With the Spirit of Life around. 

And I grasp the deepest seci-ets 
That in the upper space abound. 

I can go from star to planet. 

Through the unnumbered worlds on high, 

The universe has no limit 

Beyond ihe broad range of my eye. 

Every day I speak unto God, 

I tell Him my thoughts like a child ; 

He answers with faiherly care. 

In accents most loving and mild. 


THE BELLS OF SAN PEDRO 


303 


I often descend unto earth, 

To mix in the affairs of men, 

But my soul unerringly yearns 
To return to its realm again. 

When I leave this kingdom of mine, 

This fanciful region above, 

’Twill be but a step at the most 
To the home of infinite love. 

For I live in the highest heaven, 

V I am king of the upper air, 

I float in the dreamy ether, 

I acknowledge no equal there. 

The next one in his desk was written while at Ancon. 
On the top of the hill overlooking the bay he found a 
retired nook, from which he enjoyed a fine view of the 
sea, with its restless moaning, its ever-varying moods, 
and its dark, treacherous bosom hiding numberless 
secrets. The spirit that pervaded his musings was not 
the most cheerful as it was embodied in these lines : — 

FROM OUT OF THE SEA. 

From the crest of the rock I can gaze on the sea. 

On the limitless blue stretching far from the fore ; 

I can hear all the day, like the drone of the bee, 

The sad moan of the waves as they wash on the shore. 

While I sit on the rock when the sun has gone down. 

The dull shadows of night rise in silent review ; 

One by one, like dim stars, shine the lights of the town. 
And I watch the grey ghosts that the shadows i^ursue. 

There’s a form that keeps rising from out of the deep, 

It is one that has haunted me many a year ; 

It’s a regular visitor now when I sleep. 

And I look for its coming without any fear. 

It’s a face that an angel might have when at prayer. 

The soft eyes speak of love in its tenderest tone. 

While the sunshine is hid in the wealth of her hair. 

As she pleadingly lays her small hand in my own. 


304 


THE :^IAN FROM OSHKOSH 


It’s so odd that she never grows old or is changed 
In the lapse of the years, since we parted that day, 

And each followed a ditferent pathway estranged, 

Through the world — ah ! so long and so weary the way ! 

When I see her pale face in the still of the night. 

All my doubts and rejiinings are swept clear away ; 

For she answers my thoughts with a faith clear and bright. 
And my storm-beaten soul wakes as calm as the day. 

Through the mists of the future I look for the end. 

When the burden of life shall be lifted from me. 

May it come in the night when that presence can lend 
The sweet light of its love and I wake with the free. 

From the crest of the rock I still gaze on the sea. 

On the limitless blue stretching far from the fore ; 

I can hear all the day, like the drone of the bee, 

The sad moan of the waves as they wash on the shore. 

While he was following the train of thought suggested 
by the subject, the bells on the distant tower of San Pedro 
began to toll, filling the air with their soft music. 

There is a tradition in Lima that when the money 
was being raised to pay for the bells now in San Pedro’s 
tower, there was a strife among the women as to which 
should give the most for the bells, and many of the 
senoras brought silver candlesticks, silver cups, and 
even large pieces of plate, all of which were melted 
with the metal which formed the bells. 

Whether this is true or not, the bells have a peculiarly 
soft sound, always noted by travellers. 

Turning to his desk, he wrote this about 


THE BELLS OF SAN PEDRO. 

It is past the early dinner-hour, and the stars begin to shine, 

As I’m sitting in my easy-chair, with my fragrant cigarette 
While I watch the waves of curling smoke as above my head they 
twine. 

And my thoughts will turn on other lands and scenes I can’t 
forget. 


THE BELLS OF SAN PEDRO 


305 


There’s a little home 1 know* so well in the land across the sea, 
It’s a cottage hv the roadside, wnere the poplars shade the lawn ; 

Thei e’s a garden tilled with flowers, and their fragrance floats tome. 
As the robin pipes his cheery song to greet the early dawn. 

I’ve afriend whose kindly presence comes to meet and cheer me now. 
With the softest words of welcome, on the wings of memory ; 

And I’m looking for her features in the smoke above my brow, 
While mine anxious ear is listening to the distant melody. 

( )h ! my soul is filled with sadness and my heart is like to break. 
When the music sounds the sweetest and the absent seem so near, 

And I listen still in silence, while the smoke rings seem to make 
A sad image and an outline of the face I hold so dear. 

What is life that I should care to add a day to my existence ? 
Does the morrow bring the promise of a single joy to me ? 

I confess I have no strength to make the slightest bold resistance 
To the sorrows and the heart-aches that now weigh so heavily. 

Hark ! across the summer stillness comes the sound of distant bells. 
Gently floating in the quiet of the calm Arcadian night, 

Silver bells of old San Pedro, whose low cadence softly tells 
Of the prayers in cloistered recess by the nuns in spotless white. 

Ah, the prayers ! They remind me of the time so long ago, 
When I knelt beside my mother, and in childish innocence 

Asked of God as of a Father His protection here below. 

While mine eyes looked up to heaven with a faith the most 
intense. 

This poor heart is dead and wasted in the progress of the years, 
Like an old Peruvian church deserted with its walls decayed. 

Emblem only of departed goodness, worthy but of tears. 

And in vain 1 seek the future, for my every hope will fade. 

I am taught by worldly science, by the lips of men profound. 
That the God of iii}’’ poor childhood is an essence, nothing more. 

That the human heart is matter, like the seed placed in the ground. 
And we perish like the flowers when this hurried life is o’er. 

Oh, the prayers of my boyhood ! how they come to me to-night ! 
Gently floating o’er the shadows of this life’s tempestuous sea, 

Giving promise of a future of serene eternal light. 

Like the sound of distant bells rung in celestial harmony. 

U 


CHAPTEE XXXI 

HE WATCHES AN EXPLOSION 

Mr. Juniper was crossing the Plaza one Saturday in 
October when he noticed that a small wooden booth 
had been erected immediately in front of the Cathedral. 
This he learned was a polling-place for the election, 
which was to begin the next day. The election for 
President occurred once every four years, unless inter- 
rupted by a revolution. 

On Sunday morning the election began with a 
bloody riot. The friends of the rival candidates 
gathered at the opening of the polls, and the party 
which was strongest took possession by force of the 
tables and ballot-boxes, and thus entrenched, its ad- 
herents manipulated the election in favour of its 
own candidate. The polls were kept open for one 
week, but the friends of the opposing candidates 
opened rival polling-places, where votes were received 
for each of the others. Each new polling-place was 
established only at the end of a desperate struggle, 
and when the election closed on the second Sunday, 
it was found that five candidates had been represented 
by five different sets of polling-places, and each of 
the five candidates claimed to have carried the city. 
More than half a hundred men had been wounded 
and bruised in the several struggles at the polls, and 
over twenty had been killed. 

Congress was the final judge and arbiter of the 
elections, and Congress did not meet until the fol- 
lowing July. Political feeling was very bitter. The 

306 


HE WATCHES AN EXPLOSION 3O7 

President, Colonel Balta, had accomplished many great 
national improvements for Peru, constructing rail- 
roads, bridges, and public buildings, and he had de- 
cided to permit the election of his successor without 
interference from the Government. But the people 
seemed so incompetent to settle such a question that 
they threatened to overturn the whole political fabric 
in their quarrels over the election. 

Accordingly, President Balta was compelled to in- 
terfere. lie issued a proclamation announcing that 
none of the candidates appeared to have a majority, 
and to quiet the discord and bring about a peace, he 
proposed a new candidate for the Presidency, a man 
who would unite all parties and completely satisfy 
the country, Dr. Antonio Arenas. 

It was then charged that the name of Dr. Arenas 
was only a cover for one of the other candidates, 
General Echenique, and the friends of General Pardo 
and General Ureta denounced in no very delicate 
terms the interference of the Government. So the 
strife seemed as far as ever from a peaceable settle- 
ment. 

When the electoral colleges met, it w^as found that 
each candidate had a set of electoral colleges of his 
own, and the six different candidates were each declared 
elected in the returns which were forwarded to Con- 
gress. Thus, as the time approached for the meeting 
of Congress, the political excitement increased, and 
the friends of the rival candidates studied to augment 
the bitterness, in the hope that in the general con- 
fusion something might happen which would open the 
way to a favourable settlement of the succession. 

The favour of the Government had notably forwarded 
the chances of Dr. Arenas, and in March he w^as con- 
sidered the fortunate candidate. Certain complica- 
tions growing out of the sale of guano by the Balta 
Goveinment had seemed to put General Pardo in 
violent opposition to the Government, and evei*}^ effort 


3o8 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


was made for months by the Government and its 
friends to defeat Greneral Pardo and elect Dr. Arenas. 
Colonel Balta was recognised as an honourable man, 
and his opiDosition to General Pardo carried great 
weight among the sensible Peruvians who were not 
directly interested in the outcome of the election. 

But when the Congress assembled on the 1 5th of 
July, it was evident that the friends of General Pardo 
were largely in the majority. The only candidates 
really considered were General Pardo and Dr. Arenas, 
the other four having been dropped on account of the 
overpowering strength of the first. President Balta 
was not long in deciding upon the proper course for the 
Government to pursue. General Pardo was one of the 
ablest men in Peru, and had the confidence of the 
younger element to a wonderful extent. The Presi- 
dent decided to withdraw liis opposition and assist 
in the peaceable installation of General I’ardo as his 
successor. 

Mr. Juniper was sitting on one of the benches of the 
Plaza one evening shortly after the meeting of the 
Congress. The night was dark and cloudy. A slight 
mist had just begun to fall, and the few lamps burning 
in the Plaza seemed to give out a dirty yellowish light 
surrounded by a halo of foggy mist. 

Two men crossed the street from the Palace and 
came up the stone walk toward the little garden in 
the centre of the Plaza. Both were smoking cigarettes, 
as he could see by the two little sparks of red light 
as they approached, and one was speaking Spanish 
rapidly and gesticulating wildly, moving both hands 
in an excited manner. 

“ Caramba / he won’t dare to ! ” said the man, who 
wore the red cap and uniform of a l^eruvian officer. 

“Yes, but he will,” said his companion. He was in 
citizen’s clothes and had on a broad-brimmed Panama 
hat with a black ribbon. “From what I can learn he 
has already decided to do it.” 


HE WATCHES AN EXPLOSION 309 

By the bones of the Virgin, if he does it I’ll kill 
him ! I’ve a mind to kill him anyway ! ” 

“ Sh-sh ! ” said the other ; “ some one is listening.” 

The officer started wildly as he saw that they were 
close beside the man sitting upon the stone bench. 
The two men walked on a few feet, then turned 
directly around and paused a second time, closely 
examining the man on the bench. 

After they had gone, Mr. Juniper heard the younger 
one' say to the officer — 

“ It is only a gringo. I don’t believe he can under- 
stand what we say.” 

Then they turned and crossed the street in the 
direction of the Municiixilidad, and were lost to sight 
in the darkness. 

Two days after, Mr. Juniper was on the Calle Mer- 
caderes with Mr. Bloss, when a handsomely dressed 
officer rode by on a white Arabian horse, closely 
followed by two aids. A glance showed him that the 
officer was the one who made the violent threats that 
night in the Plaza. 

“Who is the officer on the white horse?” he asked 
of Mr. Bloss. 

“ That is Colonel Gutierrez, the Minister of Wai’. 
He is a great favourite of the President. The other 
two are his brothers. They are a bad lot, all of them.” 

He afterwards learned that there were four brothers 
of this family, who came from Arecjuipa, and the four 
had been advanced to important positions in the army 
through the friendship of President Balt a. 

The National Exposition had been opened in the new 
Exposition Palace. The country was piosperous, and 
the political excitement was about to be ended by the 
election of a good man to the Presidency. 

President Balta was glad to lay aside the cares of 
office. Before doing so, he had issued invitations to 
more than a thousand of the people of Lima, to attend 
the wedding reception of his daughter, who was to 


310 THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 

marry a prominent young Peruvian on the evening of 
the 22nd. A wedding-feast was arranged to be given 
in the grand dining-hall of the Palace, and under 
beautiful decorations of flowers and banners, tables 
were prepared for three hundred guests. It was to be 
the final social event of the Balta administration, and 
the President and his family looked forward to it as 
the end of a season which had not been entirely free 
from annoyance. The lOth of August would see the 
peaceful inauguration of his successor, and then Colonel 
Balta would retire to his estate and spend the remainder 
of his days in well-earned peace and quiet. 

Standing at his desk about three o’clock on the 
afternoon of the 22 nd, Mr. Juniper was surprised when 
the porter entered with a broad grin on his face and 
exclaimed — 

“Dere’s a revolution, sah. De President’s been 
carried off, sah ! ” 

“ What do you mean ? ” he asked. 

“Revolution in de Palace, sah. Didn’t you hear 
de guns ? ” 

The sound of the machinery liad effectualh^ drowned 
the noise of the guns, if there had been any noise. 

In a few minutes one of the clerks came in. and 
then it was learned that the Minister of War, Colonel 
Gutierrez, had declared himself dictator, seized the 
President, and taken possession of the Palace. 

It transpired that Colonel Gutierrez had advocated 
a scheme by which President Balta was to issue a 
proclamation declaring the elections void, calling a 
new election and appointing a Provisional President. 
Gutierrez had hoped to be named as the Provisional 
President, and once installed, he had planned to make 
liimself President for the full term. It was when 
President Balta finally decided to acquiesce in the 
choice of Colonel Pardo that the wicked Gutierrez 
resolved to slay his benefactor and grasp the Presidency 
by force. 


HE WATCHES AN EXPLOSION 3 I I 

Consternation seized upon every one. Work was 
stopped, and the office closed and put in condition so 
that it could be protected against a mob. The men 
were dismissed, except those employed in the office. 

Later in the afternoon, Mr. Juniper went to the 
Plaza, where he found a detachment of troo])S in pos- 
session, with the corners protected by small cannon, 
and two or three Gatling guns ready for action. The 
soldiers stood around as if watching for an attack, and 
Mr. Juniper did not tarry long within range of the 
guns. The shops on the street were closed. Many 
of the large doors of the residences had been shut, as if 
it were night, and men stood on the corners talking 
in an undertone. Carriages were running around at 
a lively rate, and everything indicated an impending 
crisis. 

He learned that at two o’clock, Colonel Gutierrez, 
at the head of a regiment, had proceeded to the 
President’s room and taken him prisoner. The Pre- 
sident was marched under guard to the convent of 
San Francisco, then used as a cuartel^ but in an hour 
afterwards he was removed to the fort of Santa Catalina, 
where he was placed in one of the cells under a heavy 
guard. 

Colonel Gutierrez, with the assistance of his three 
brothers, believed that he had the army on his side, 
and the dictatorship seemed within his grasp. When 
he had the President in his power, and had posses- 
sion of the Palace, he despatched another strong force 
to the Plaza de Independencia, where the two Houses 
of Congress were in session. K regiment of men with 
fixed bayonets, in command of a younger Gutierrez, 
appeared at the door of the Chamber of Deputies, 
where the two Houses had convened to protest against 
the revolution. Gutierrez jumped upon a chair, and, 
waving his sword, ordered the Congress to disi3erse in 
the name of the supreme chief ; and then the soldiers 
tramped in, each holding his bayonet in a menacing 


312 


THE MAX FROM OSHKOSH 


position in front. In ten niiiuites the hall was cleared, 
the dignified senators and dipulados falling over each 
other in the attempt to get out of the doOr in advance 
of the guard behind. 

Colonel Pardo, the choice of Congress for the pre- 
sidential chair, took the first train for Callao as soon, 
as the disturbance commenced, and when he was safe 
on board a Peruvian man-of-war, the entire fleet of 
four ships, the Independencia, Apurimac^ Huascar, and 
Ghalaco, disappeared from the harbour and sailed for 
the south. 

For three days Lima was in the hands of the 
dictator All business was suspended, and guards of 
armed men patrolled the streets. Colonel Tomas 
Gutierrez had announced himself supreme chief, ap- 
pointed a cabinet, and issued a circular to the 
diplomatic corps. His Minister of the Treasury took 
possession of the public funds, and in the three days 
of power abstracted for his own use |i80,000 from 
the Peruvian treasury. 

On the 26th came the climax. One of the brothers, 
Silvester Gutierrez, came up from Callao, where he 
was at the head of a revolutionary force, but at the 
station in Lima he was shot and killed. On hearing 
of his death, another brother, Marcelino, placed him- 
self at the head of a company of soldiers, and marched 
to the cell at Santa Catalina, where President Balta 
was confined. The prisoner was in bed, having suc- 
cumbed to a severe attack of illness. Gutierrez 
stalked into the room, revolver in hand, and with his 
own weapon shot the unfortunate Balta in the head, 
when a volley from the soldiers riddled the body with 
bullets. 

Satisfied with his bloody work, Marcelino went 
immediately to Callao, where he took command of 
the fort in place of his brother Silvester. Here he 
amused himself by shooting down defenceless citizens 
from the top of the fort. 


HE WATCHES AN EXPLOSION 


313 


One of his captains approached him on the wall 
of the fort, and kindly suggested that he should not 
thus expose himself, as he was liable to be shot from 
below. 

“You are a coward,” said Marcelino, “take that!” 
and he shot him down with a bullet from his revolver. 

Five minutes later, while he was arranging a cannon 
so as to sweep the principal street of Callao, a rifle- 
shot from below penetrated his breast, and he dropped 
dead. With his death the revolutionary movement in 
Callao fell to pieces. 

Almost at the same time the dictator himself began 
to fear for his personal safety, and after dark he sought 
refuge in the fort of Santa Catalina. A force of 
soldiers which had remained loyal to President Balta 
had been firing into the embrasures of Santa Catalina 
at intervals during the day. About ten o’clock in the 
evening, one of the ofiBcers in command. Captain 
Domingo Ayarza, while walking around the fort, met 
two men. Ordering them to halt, he discovered that 
one of them was Tomas Gutierrez, the dictator himself. 

Gutierrez begged piteously for his life. Captain 
Ayarza promised to save him if he could, and started 
with him for the house of General Canseco, the second 
Vice-President of the Eepublic. On the way thither, 
a mob surrounded the defeated dictator, and to avoid 
harsh treatment, he ran into a drug store near the 
church of the Merced. Here he was followed by a 
motley crowd of Indians, cliolos, and soldiers, who found 
him trying to conceal himself in a bath-tub. Two or 
three shots from a revolver were heard, and then the 
corpse of the ambitious Gutierrez was drawn into the 
street by a rope tied around the neck, and the howling 
mob started with it in a frenzy towards the Plaza. 
The body was submitted to every public indignity, cut, 
hammered, and slashed with knives, and finally hanged 
to a lamp-post in the Plaza. 

On his way to the office the next morning, Mr. 


314 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Juniper passed in view of tlie Plaza, whicli lie saw was 
filled witli an excited mob. Walking towards the 
centre, he beheld the corpse of a man dangling from 
a beam which had been left extending from the front 
of the Cathedral near the roof, and on the opposite 
side in the same position hung a second body. 

The mob had fastened a rope to the beam used by 
the labourers working upon the roof of the Cathedral, 
and hauled up the body of the late dictator, and soon 
after the remains of his brother, Silvester, were elevated 
in the same manner on the other corner. 

Wolves are maddened b}' the sight of blood, and the 
demon in human beings is often aroused by any exhi- 
bition of brutality. 

All the morning the angry crowd surrounded the 
Catliedral. Boys and men threw stones at the bodies 
suspended in the air. Cries were heard of ‘‘Burn the 
rascals ! Hanging is too good for them ! ” 

There were low-browed Indians from the sierras, 
wearing ponchos and sandals on their feet, negroes with 
thick lips and ngly eyes, Spaniards, Portuguese, Chinese, 
and Cholos, the scum and dregs of the city. Bottles 
of agitadiente were passed from mouth to mouth among 
the crowd, and with each drink the anger and rage and 
thirst for blood seemed to increase. 

“ Oh, you villain ! ” shouted an old crone, a chola 
whose son had been shot in front of Santa Catalina. 
“ If I was a man I’d burn your carcass if I died for 
it ! ” and she shook her fist at the body of the dictator. 

“ Let’s burn his house ! Burn the rascal’s house ! ” 
and the cry passed from one to the other, and forty 
or fifty men started off on the run. 

The policemen, armed with gun and bayonet, stood 
at their accustomed place on the street corner near 
the Miiniciimlidcid and around the Palace, but not one 
of them made the slightest attempt to restrain the 
crowd, wliich seemed to grow in numbers and violence. 

Soon a great cry was heard from the corner of the 


HE WATCHES AN EXPLOSION 


315 


Plaza, and a cart came in sight, hauled by three mules, 
and driven by two or three chohs, who were yelling in 
a loud voice, and beating the mules as they marched 
along over the rough pavement. The cart was heaped 
high with furniture. There were tables, chairs, and 
pieces of bookcases, a piano bottom up, with the legs 
straight up in the air, and two or three lace curtains. 

Almost at the same moment a loud noise was heard 
on the other side of the Plaza. A crowd of men ap- 
peared hauling a rope. Loud vivas could be heard 
among the infuriated wretches in the Plaza as the 
end of the rope came in view, showing something 
dragging in the street. 

At Callao, the mob, on learning of the death of the 
dictator and the hanging of his remains, had gone 
to the cemetery where Marcelino Gutierrez was buried 
and dug up his body. It was found at the bottom of 
a pit, with six other corpses on top of it. With a 
rope around the neck it was drawn through the streets 
to the railroad station and brought to Lima. 

The mob at the dictator’s residence broke in the doors, 
smashed the windows, and destroyed everything in 
sight. A load of the furniture was taken to the Plaza, 
where it was soon arranged in a big heap. 

Two or three priests made their appearance. They 
walked directly and authoritatively to the place where 
the men were piling up the furniture and began talk- 
ing to the leaders, urging them in the name of God to 
stop their devilish work. 

“ Away with the priests ! ” shouted a tall negro, who 
was lifting the piano towards the pile. Then motion- 
ing to three or four of his associates, he dropped the 
piano, and grasped the priest by his robe, and by a 
concerted movement the two priests were pulled away 
from the Plaza so quickly that their fat legs had to run, 
or they would have been dragged bodily over the rough 
stones. 

As soon as the priests were out of the way, a con- 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


316 

siiltation was held. Half-a-dozen men were sent to 
each corner of the Cathedral'. The body of Tomas 
Gutierrez was let down from the beam, dropping upon 
the marble pavement with a severity which would have 
extinguished life had any life remained in the body. 
With a savage ciy, and amid the vivas of the crowd, 
it was hauled down the steps and on to where the pile 
of furniture had been stacked up. Then the remains of 
Silvester and Marcelino were placed with it on the top 
of the broken piano, the chairs and tables from the 
dictator’s house. 

One of the Gutierrez brothers had been a baker, and 
from his bakery the mob had brought pine-wood and 
kindlings, and the pine-wood and kindlings with the 
lace curtains and pieces of broken furniture were all in 
in readiness when the third body had been placed on 
the pile. 

A dense black smoke rose and soon a bright red 
light appeared, then a sharp crackling sound. The 
mob began to fall aside. Some of the braver called for 
more aguadiente and continued cheering, but as soon 
as the fire was started many left the Plaza, some because 
they were satisfied that the bodies of the usurpers were 
to be burned, and others sickened with the horrible 
barbarity of the scene. 

The Plaza was soon partiall}^ cleared of the crowd. 
A wide space was left immediately surrounding the 
fire, but the long marble steps of the Cathedral, the 
two Portals, and the Plaza near the Mitnidpalidad were 
yet ]3acked with a dirty mass of humanity, while the 
balconies on the two sides of the Plaza were thronged 
with spectators. 

On the Plaza towards the Palace there were very 
few people, for the wind drove the smoke in that 
direction, and it was noticed that however vindictive 
and bloodthirsty the mob appeared to be, few members 
of it were able to endure the sickening odour of burned 
flesh, as the crackling flames wreathed around the 


HE WATCHES AN EXPLOSION 317 

victims, and scorched the bodies into a shapeless and 
disgusting mass. 

An hour or two later the Plaza was partially deserted, 
the flames had spent their force, the smoke had blown 
away, and the charred bodies rested on a few smoul- 
dering coals. 

The old woman who lost her son at Santa Catalina 
was seen approaching the pile. From under her wjxnta 
she drew a long knife, and reaching toward one of the 
bodies, cut and hacked it for a moment, then with her 
claw-like fingers she lifted a piece of the burned flesh 
to her lips and ate it. 

An old negro from Callao followed her. One arm 
was in a sling, for he had been shot by Marcelino 
Gutierrez from the walls of the fort. With a long- 
bladed pocket-knife, he cut into one of the corpses until 
he found the heart, which he removed and brought out 
sticking on the end of his knife. Witli a muttered 
curse in Spanish, he bit off a piece with his teeth, and 
then spat out the piece and threw the whole back into 
the fire. 

The next day men with big carts cleared up the 
ashes and partially consumed bones, and quiet reigned 
at Lima as if nothing had happened. 

On the 3rd of August Colonel Pardo returned to the 
city and was inaugurated President amid the joyful 
acclamations of the multitude. 


CHAPTER XXXII 

A JOLLY OLD FRIAR 

Mr. Juniper was walking one Sunday afternoon with 
Mr. Santa Cruz, and when they reached the Plaza de 
Independencia they took a seat on one of the benches. 

“ It is hard to realise, isn’t it,” said j\Ir. Santa Cruz, 
“ that on this spot hundreds of human beings have been 
burned alive.” 

“ Burned alive ? ” 

‘‘Yes. This is the old Plaza of the Inquisition. 
Those buildings across the street were part of a con- 
vent, and that door next to the carpenter’s shop was the 
gateway to the grand hall of the Inquisition. The 
room where the trials were held, and where many a 
poor wretch was sentenced to his auto da fe, is now 
used for the Peruvian Senate-chamber. What a story 
those old walls could tell I ” 

“ It does not seem possible that any one could be so 
cruel,” said Mr. Juniper. “I cannot understand how 
men professing Christianity could deliberately take the 
life of another man simply because he did not believe 
as they did.” 

“ It was all a perversion of the system of religion 
then predominating. The Church taught that it held 
the keys of heaven, and could send men to eternal 
happiness or eternal misery. Those who doubted were 
committing sin, and should be removed to save others 
from doubting.” 

“ Surely it was a practical way of removing them to 
burn them.” 


A JOLLY OLD FRIAR 


319 


“ Yes, but I don’t suppose this country suffered nearly 
as much as the European countries. France, Spain, 
and Italy probably suffered most. The countrymen of 
Torquemada settled Peru, and the Inquisition came 
over with the first of the priests, but the season of 
persecution did not last long.” 

“ I do not see whom they had to work upon,” said 
Mr. Juniper. In a new country like Peru the Inquisi- 
tors must have dealt with the Indians.” 

‘‘Xot at all. The Inquisition was often used by 
corrupt men for their own advancement. Many a 
good Spaniard was accused before the Inquisition in 
Lima and punished with death in order that his pro- 
perty might fall into the hands of his enemies. Even 
priests were cited before the Inquisitorial tribunal, and 
sometimes condemned and executed. 

“ My cousin has told me of one case that is always 
mentioned among the traditions of this Plaza. While 
the Inquisition was in full blast, the Count X., one of 
the Viceroys, had a young and beautiful wife, whose 
residence in the country was distasteful to her. She 
sighed for her old home in Andalusia, and refused to be 
comforted. The Viceroy was an old man, who had 
served with distinction in the Netherlands under the 
Duke of Alva, and his wife’s discontented disposition 
was a great annoyance to him. He was from Barcelona, 
and the original harshness of his Catalonian disposition 
had not been softened by his training under the vindic- 
tive and hard-hearted Alva. The married life of the 
two became a condition of wretchedness for both, when 
Father Felipe appeared on the scene. Father Felipe 
was a Franciscan monk who came out from Andalusia 
in company with the new Bishop of Lima. He is 
described as a young priest of excellent family, hand- 
some, learned, and pious, and he soon became a general 
favourite with both the people and the clergy. In the 
discharge of his duties in the Cathedral at Lima, he 
became the spiritual adviser of the Condesa X., wife of 


3:30 ' THIO .NfAN FROM OSHKOSH 

the Viceroy. Soon he was attentive in his visits to 
the Condesa at the viceregal palace, and even the 
common people began to remark upon the singular 
devotion exhibited by Father Felipe towards the charm- 
ing Condesa. 

“ The truth was that the attachment between the 
two had been of long standing. In the beautiful 
\'alley of the Guadalquivir, on the slope of the sierra 
near the city of Cordova, in Andalusia, Father Felipe 
was born. His father was a wealthy hacendado, who 
traced his descent through many generations to a Koman 
knight of the same name, who settled there before the 
i\Ioorish conquest. Upon an adjoining hacienda lived 
the Condesa, then the Senorita Mercedes ; and as they 
approached the age of maturity, the two young people 
became enamoured of each other, and secretly exchanged 
pledges of their mutual affection, which were afterwards 
ratified by their parents. When Felipe reached the age 
of twenty, a dispute arose between the beautiful Mer- 
cedes and himself, growing out of the smiles she had 
bestowed upon a rival when riding home from the misa. 
Mercedes resented the scolding of the fiery young cava- 
lier, and Felipe, in an outburst of youthful frenzy, 
violently rebuked her, dissolved their betrothment, re- 
turned to his own home and settled up his affairs, and 
on the next day started for Seville, where he entered 
a seminary and afterwards became a priest. The fair 
Mercedes mourned for him seven years, and then, at 
the urgent solicitation of her father, she gave her hand 
in marriage to the valiant General X., who offered her 
wealth, an honourable position, and as much love as 
could be expected from a man old enough to be her 
father. Two years after the marriage, the King sent 
the Count to Lima as his Viceroy, and, as if impelled 
by a fate which controlled him in every movement, no 
sooner had Father Felipe learned of her removal than 
he sought and obtained an order to transfer his labours 
to Lima, under the patronage of the bishop. 


A JOLLY OLD FRIAR 


321 


“ In the loneliness and misery following her removal 
to Peru, and from the moroseness and lack of congeni- 
ality of the Viceroy’s disposition, the poor lady spent 
her time alternately in tears and the duties of the 
Church. What wonder was it, then, that the advent 
of Father Felipe caused her to take an interest in the 
handsome young clerigo, who had been her playmate in 
childhood, her companion in the happy days of youth, 
and the only man she had ever loved ? 

“ It must not be supposed, however, that the rela- 
tions between the Condesa and her confessor, equivocal 
as they were, escaped the notice of the Viceroy. On the 
contrary, he had been made aware of every step in the 
whole affair, from the Sunday when the Condesa had first 
met Father Felipe at the Cathedral down to each day’s 
meeting either at church or the viceregal residence. • 

“Nothing had ever passed between the priest and 
his fair parishioner which was in the slightest degree 
wrong, in spite of their great intimacy. He was the 
friend and confidant of early days, and this made his 
ministrations as her confessor all the more sootliiiig 
and comforting to her. Both were young, and the 
danger line was soon passed. Father Felipe, in his 
conscientious fear that trouble might result from his 
frequent visits at the Viceroy’s, absented himself for 
two days. Just after dark on the second day, he 
received a note from the Condesa, delivered by a 
serving-maid disguised in a saya-manta, asking him to 
call at three o’clock in the morning — the maid would 
meet him, and secure an entrance for him. In spite 
of his pious resolutions, he decided to go, but luckily 
he destroyed the Condesa’s note before starting. 

“ Just before three o'clock the next morning, he met 
the maid in the mya-manta, repaired to the house of 
the Viceroy, passed the porter, who gave him entrance 
through the small door, and, following the young woman 
across the patio, he ascended a rear stairway, and soon 
found himself at the door of the Condesa’s room. 

X 


322 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“ The Count had retired as usual about one o’clock, 
and by all analogy should have been soundly slumber- 
ing, for he was generally a good sleeper ; but through 
some strange misfortune he had just awakened from 
his first nap, when he was surprised to hear the sound 
of the padre’s stealthy step in the upper patio outside. 
His listening ear soon discovered that the mysterious 
visitor had stopped at his wife’s room adjoining. In 
an instant the Count had arisen, and at the communi- 
cating door of the Condesa’s room his suspicions were 
confirmed by the sound of suppressed whispering, which 
he could hear. He hurriedly burst open the door, only 
to see a dark figure glide out of the room, spring over 
the railing, and let himself down to the patio below. 
A large black hat, with the brim turned up on either 
side, worn by the padre, was lying on a chair — a 
tell-tale witi ess, which spoke no word, yet carried 
conviction to the mind of the Count. 

“ The Condesa, in her white robe, sat in her arm-chair 
bitterly weeping, with her face covered with her hands. 
She made no explanation, and attempted no apology, 
and indeed nothing of the kind was solicited by the 
Count. "Without a word he secured the padre’s hat 
and retired to his own room. 

“ The next day he did not meet the Condesa at break- 
fast, and from tliat time on he refused to see her, but 
the scandal was not made public. 

“ In the afternoon the Inquisitor-General, in his full 
robes, paid a visit to the Viceroy, and for an hour they 
were closeted together in the private room of the latter. 

“ A week later. Father Felipe was arrested by an 
officer of the Inquisition, and in a month he was tried 
and found guilty of heresy. He made no defence, and 
even seemed anxious to criminate himself. The natu- 
ral purity of his mind had received such a shock 
that nothing but death itself could remove the stain. 
His relations with the Condesa were never mentioned, 
and, while he knew that if he made known the actual 


A JOLLY OLD FRIAR 


3^3 


facts in the case he would be pardoned, his sense of 
duty, combined with his regard for the lady, sealed 
his mouth. 

“It did not require more than the hatred of the 
Viceroy and the jealousy of some of the clerigos con- 
nected with the Inquisition against the popular young 
padre to bring about his conviction and coiideniDation. 
The penalty was death, with the awful accompaniment 
of the auto publico general. 

“ On a Sunday between Pentecost and Advent, Father 
Felipe, with three others, was publicly burned in this 
Plaza. The unfortunate priest wore a zamarra of 
sheepskin, and a coroza on his head, both painted with 
horrible pictures of devils incarnate. It was said that 
the poor clerigo became unconscious when the faggots 
were first liglited, and it is believed to this day that 
angels took away the spirit, so that what was burned 
was simply the fieshly body. 

“ The Condesa left for Spain by the next ship which 
sailed to Panama, and in a convent in Seville she 
ended her days, a melancholy example of the punish- 
ment wrought by sin.” 

“ That story sounds well enough to put in a book,” 
said Mr. Juniper. 

“ The only defect about it,” said his companion, “ is 
that it is probably true.” 

Just then the church-bells at San Pedro began ring- 
ing for six o’clock, when Mr. Santa Cruz rose in a 
reverent manner, and stood with his head bare while 
tlie bells rang. More than a dozen others in the Plaza 
did the same. 

“ Still,” said Mr. Juniper, “ I don’t suppose that the 
Church of to-day is to be condemned on account of its 
errors committed two hundred and fifty years ago. If 
it is, then Protestantism has much to answer for. In- 
tolerance of opinion was about as bad among the early 
Protestants as among the Catholics.” 

“In the early years of civilisation men were like 


324 THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 

children. Truths which to us are trite and common- 
place were arrived at only after ages of bitter experi- 
ence. The Inquisition, however, was of comparatively 
modern growth, for the early fathers of the Church 
distinctly refused to punish heresy. Even the first 
convictions for this offence brought great scandal upon 
the Church authorities, and it was only when the clergy 
became corrupted by amassing great wealth that the 
Inquisition secured a foothold. It was part of the 
same movement in Spain that resulted in the expulsion 
of the Moors, the greatest misfortune, in my opinion, 
that ever happened to the prosperity of Spain.” 

“ The Moors of Spain were the scholars of the Middle 
Ages.” 

‘‘ Yes ; and if the Spanish rulers had encouraged 
tolerance of opinion, and kept the Moors and the Jews, 
Spain would to-day be a first-class po wer in Europe, 
instead of one of the weakest.” 

“ It seems strange that a race which discovered the 
ilew World and conquered two-thirds of its territory 
should so completely have lost its characteristics of 
bravery and commercial sagacity.” 

When Spain lost the Moors, the whole nation sank 
into that imbecility which always comes with a lack 
of intellectual life. Complete unanimity of opinion is 
mental darkness; and when Isabella secured religious 
uniformity, she did it at the expense of intellectual 
vigour. Since then, Spain has lived the life of a man 
whose mind is diseased ; the impetus and mainspring of 
her existence has been lacking, and the race is in its 
decline.” 

The two young men arose and walked towards the 
Cathedral. Just before parting Mr. Santa Cruz said — 

“ I want you to dine with me on Thursday evening, 
Mr. Juniper; I have a surprise for you.” 

Mr. J uniper accepted, and the young men separated. 

When he Vv^ent to the Santa Cruz residence on Thurs- 
day evening, his friend met him at the door. 


A JOLLY OLD FRIAR 


325 


“My cousin, Father Geronimo, has invited us to dine 
with him to-night,” said Mr. Santa Cruz. “ If you can 
put up with the rigid accommodations of a monastery, 
we will go there and accept his invitation.” 

“ Nothing would please me better,” said Mr. Juniper ; 
and in five minutes they were on their way to the 
convent. 

It was an old building situated not far from the bank 
of theEimac, and with its numerous additions occupied 
more than half a square. In the earthquake of 1746 
it had been partially destroyed, but it was afterwards 
rebuilt, and the earthquake of 1868 had made great 
cracks in the tower of the principal building which 
still remained. There was a large church and three 
or four smaller chapels, and in the Plaza in front 
there was a small fountain surrounded by plants and 
flowers. 

The two young men passed through a small door near 
one of the chapels, and entered a long shabby room 
paved with large clay tiles. At the farther end was a 
large door containing a wicket. Mr. Santa Cruz tapped 
on the door, when the wicket was opened, and after a 
few words in Spanish, the door itself w^as opened to 
admit the visitors. They could see that the attendant 
was a cholo, whose countenance could be distinguished 
by the light of a single candle on a small table near the 
door. Placing a silver coin in the hand of the choloy 
and passing through another door, they found them- 
selves in the cloisters of the convent, with a beautiful 
garden occupying the centre of the large inner court. 
This court was more than a hundred feet square, and 
surrounded on four sides by a row of pillars supporting 
the balcony, fifteen feet wide, which extended entirely 
around the garden. Beneath the balcony the floor of 
the cloisters was paved with the same large diamond- 
shaped red tiles they had seen in the outer room, while 
the wall to the height of six feet was faced with fine blue 
tiling brought from Italy in the seventeenth century. 


326 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


As they walked around the cloisters, the scene was 
one of quiet beauty which appealed forcibly to the mind 
of Mr. Juniper. The air was soft and spring-like, and 
laden with the odour of thousands of fiowers. The 
monastery w^as so completely cut off from the noise and 
bustle of the street that it might have been in the heart 
of a primeval forest, so secluded it seemed, and in the 
bit of sky overhead the brilliant white stars of the tropics 
were just beginning to show themselves in the twilight. 
A second time they made the circuit of the cloisters, 
admiring the garden, the long mysterious vista formed 
by the row of pillars, the quaint designs in the antique 
china-blue tiles, and the two or three shadowy figures 
of bareheaded monks, silently moving in the balconies 
above, prayer-book in hand, and j\Ir. Juniper could not 
refrain from saying — 

“There have been times in my life when I would 
have been delighted to bury myself, at least for a time, 
in just such a quiet spot as this.” 

“ It is rather pleasant to look at,” said Mr. Santa 
Cruz, “ but I fancy that if you were a prisoner here tlie 
attractiveness of the place would soon disappear.” 

At the farther corner of the court, Mr. Santa Cruz 
rapped at a small door wdiich opened into a long 
passage. Near the end of the passage, on the right, 
WHS anotlier door, also guarded by an attendant, this 
time a monk, and then they passed into a second court, 
much smaller than the other, and having in the centre 
a hydrant. On the farther side of this court they 
entered an arched door, and were shown to seats by the 
monk who received them. 

The room where tliey sat was about thirty feet long 
and half as wTde, with an arched ceiling newly white- 
washed, and the wall towards the court, as they could 
see from the door, was nearly two feet in thickness. 
Large red clay tiles covered the floor, and the only 
furniture was a pine table and four or five old-fashioned 
arm-chairs with seats made o! coarsel} - woven willows. 


A JOLLY OLD FRIAR 


327 


All seemed scrupulously clean. From some interior 
room came a most agreeable odour, as of a stew or other 
compound, and as the visitors were both sufficiently 
hungry, they sniffed the fragrance from afar. They 
were alone about five minutes when the Padre Gero- 
nimo made his appearance through an inner door, and 
after warmly saluting the young men, took his seat by 
their side. 

“ I am very glad you came,” he said to Mr. Juniper, 
“ for I have many things to say to you. It is a long 
time since I have seen you, and our last conversation 
interested me greatly.” 

“I have been very ill since I met you last,” said 
Mr. Juniper, with a shudder as he remembered what 
he had passed through. “ My friend took the yellow 
fever and died of it, and I was near to death with it 
myself.” 

“ Jesus ! ” said Father Geronimo, “ that was very bad.” 

“I had an opportunity to see what the Sisters of 
Charity can do in a great emergency. Many hundreds 
of lives were saved by their labours in Lima. Wher- 
ever the danger was greatest the Sisters were to be 
found, and I believe they did more good with their 
nursing than the doctors did with their medicine.” 

“ jSTo doubt their practical efforts to relieve suffering 
accomplished wonders,” said Father Geronimo, "‘but 
the many prayers which went up every day from the 
faithful had something to do with checking the- great 
scourge.” 

“ Did the monasteries suffer much ? ” asked Mr. 
Juniper, for the monk’s conversation was getting pro- 
fessional. 

“ I believe the fever did not get into any of the con- 
vents, but many of the brothers lost their lives in 
caring for the sick.” 

While they were talking, the monk who received the 
visitors at the door had spread a white cloth on the 
pine table and put on three plates and two candles. 


328 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


He now brought the bread and a huge white dish (illed 
with a thick compound which threw off great rings of 
liot steaming vapour more fragrant than the odour of 
^lo\^ ers or the attar of roses. 

The monk, who seemed to be a novice or a member 
of one of the subordinate orders, motioned Padre 
Geronimo to take the place at the head of the table, 
while the two young men seated themselves one on 
either side. The novice was a young man aged about 
twenty-two. He wore a plain gown of coarse grey 
material that reached to his feet, which were only 
partially covered with a pair of sandals. Around his 
waist was a belt from which was suspended a long, 
narrow piece of black enamelled leather. He took his 
place immediately back of the padre’s chair. 

“ I am sorry I cannot offer you an elaborate dinner,” 
said the padre after a short prayer in Latin, “ but our 
rules prohibit any indulgence at the table.” 

]\Ir. Juniper thought he detected a slight twinkle in 
the black eye of the padre as he said this. 

With a large ladle the padre filled each of the plates 
from the smoking dish in the middle of the table, which 
proved to be cazucia de caniero. Like a skilled host as 
he was, the padre placed on each of the plates a generous 
piece of the mutton, the round end of one ear of corn, a 
fragment of tomato, part of a stalk of celery, two or 
three sm dl onions, the flattened hemisphere of an egg, 
more than a dozen green peas, several pieces of string 
beans, two small yellow potatoes, a little aji, the half of 
a tender white leaf of calLage, and several thin slices of 
white turnip, while the juicy mass floated in a sea of the 
yellow liquid. 

“ I am very fond of the cazitela,"’ said the padre, 
“ and I think it might well be called the national dish 
of Peru.” 

“ It is meat and drink at the same time,” said 
]\Ir. Juniper. ''We have no dish in North America 
like it.” 


A JOLLY OLD FRIAR 


329 


Do you know,” the padre continued, that food is 
the great civiliser of humanity ? If I could furnish the 
food supply of the world, it would be only a short time 
when religion would conquer infidelity, virtue would 
take the place of vice, and the millennium would be at 
hand. The stomach is far more vulnerable than the 
brain, and it is a waste of labour to try to convert a 
man without satisfying his hunger. Fill his stomach, 
and his brain is under your control.” 

‘'We have societies in the United States which pro- 
vide soup-houses for the poor,” said Mr. Juniper, “ and 
I think it the best possible preparation for religious 
work.” 

AVhenever Mr. Juniper made any allusion to religion 
or religious work, the padre invariably changed the 
subject. 

“ Man is an alembic,” said he. “ The stomach is the 
cucurbit. Thought is distillation. Witliout food there 
can be no thought, as an empty alembic produces no 
steam. The quantity and character of the food deter- 
mines the thought, just as the liquid in the cucurbit 
produces one or the other kind of vapour.” 

When the three plates had been cleared of their 
contents by the three men, the silent novice removed 
them and also the huge white tureen. In a few minutes 
he returned with three more plates and three glasses. 
Another journey into the mysterious inner apartment 
provided him with a fiat covered dish and a fiagon con- 
taining a dark liquid which he placed before the padre, 
and then took his stand at the back of the padre’s chair 
as before. 

The padre raised the cover from the dish and dis- 
covered the bodies of two chickens, nicely broiled to a 
delicious brown, and around the dish, arranged like the 
outer spokes in a wheel, were slices of iXiQpapa amarillo, 
a yellow potato from the mountains, each delicately fried, 
so as to retain the peculiar flavour of the vegetable with 
the crispness which adds so much to the delight of 


330 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


eating them, while the summit of each piece of the 
Ijirds was crowned with a slice of scarlet tomato. 

After he had served his guests and himself, the padre 
took the flagon and filled each of the glasses with the 
liquid. Then raising his glass in front of him so that 
the light from tlie nearest candle shone through the 
beautiful dark-red wine, he said — 

Just before the great earthquake which destroyed 
the city of Lisbon in 1755, the Bishop of Oporto sent 
to his brotlicr, tlie Father Superior of our order in 
Lima, a pimclieon of the famous wine of that city. 
This wine is carefully treasured by the brotherhood, 
and is rarely used, save at the ordination of a bishop, 
or a jubilee of some kind, but I ask you now to join 
me in a glass of it, and we will drink to the happiness 
of mankind.” 

After the chicken came fruit and coffee, and over 
the cigarettes the three men spent an hour or more, 
and it was nearly ten o’clock when the two visitors 
arose to depart. 

“ I am going to the sierras next month,” said Padre 
Geronimo, “ and if you and my cousin can spend the 
time, I would like to hnve you go with me. You can 
then see something of the interior, and I promise 
yon that you will come back well satisfied with the 
journey.” 

]\Ir. Juniper thanked him, and said he would con- 
sider the matter. On the way towards the Cathedral 
Mr. Santa Cruz {«aid — 

“ I think we had better go with him. Then we can 
look up the stcny about the lost llamas.” 

After he had reached his room, Mr. Juniper sat for 
several minutes with his cigarette, thinking over his 
dinner with the padre, and then, whether it was the 
old port working in the alembic of his system or the 
words of the padre, he turned to his desk and spent an 
hour in writing. When he had concluded he read to 
himself the following : — 


A JOLLY OLD FRIAR 


A JOLLY OLD FRIAR AM 1. 

Oh, a jolly old friar am I, 

And I live on the top of tlie pile ; 

You can tell by the wink of my eye, 

Or the grin on my face when I smile, 
That 1 never am sorry to drink, 

And that eatin’s entirely my forte. 

From the table I never can shrink. 

So it’s somethin’ that’s good for a sport. 
Sing Hullaballoo, 

Sing Hullaballoo. 

Only one life was given to man. 

Only one chance on earth here to try, 
Only once in eternity’s plan, 

Only once that a swallow can fly. 

Sing Hullaballoo, 

Sing Hullaballoo. 

Let the wisest of men preach of death. 
Let philosophers cant if they must. 

Let the cowards expend all their breath. 
Let the dust then return unto dust. 

Sing Hullaballoo, 

Sing Hullaballoo. 

Then let’s fill up the glass to the brim. 
And we’ll drink to the health of us all, 
With a bumper of wine now to him 
Who will give us no more of the Fall. 
Here’s to honest good eatin’ and drinkin’, 
Here’s to friendship so kind and so true, 
Here’s to honest ripe talkin’ and thinkin’, 
Here’s to livin’ with heaven iii view. 

Sing Hullaballoo, 

Sing Hullaballoo. 


CHAPTEE XXXIII 
SONG OF THE INGRATE 


Mr. Juniper went with Mr. Santa Cruz, a short time 
later, to call on the Sehoritas Manzana. The young 
ladies were daughters of Senor Manzana, a Chilian 
who was largely interested in the guano business. 
There was a romantic story about one of them, which 
added to the interest of the family, and induced Mr. 
Juniper to make the visit. 

It seems that Sehorita Clolilde, the elder, had been 
the recipient of many polite attentions from a young 
South American, the secretary of one of the legations 
in Lima. The friendship ripened into love, and cul- 
minated in a betrothal, but, with the inconstancy for 
which so many young men are noted, the secretary 
took offence at some fancied grievance, broke the en- 
gagement, and applying to his Government for a transfer, 
he left at once for Buenos Aires. The young lady was 
heartbroken at the cruel injustice, and for a time it 
appeared as if her young life would be brought to a 
close by quick consumption ; but she rallied, and was 
now on the way to recovery. 

At the ^lanzana residence, in the Calle Barcelona, 
a coloured shade w'as over the gaslight at the door, and 
in the sala each of the globes in the crystal chandelier 
was enclosed in a pink shade, giving the room a warm, 
cheerful light. There was a piano and a guitar in the 
room, and on the stand was a large album of photo- 
graphic views of Valparaiso and Santiago, while a 
cabinet in the corner held a fine collection of Jmacos. 

332 


SONG OF THE INGRATE 


333 


The Sefiora Manzaiia and her two daughters received 
the young men with polite dignity. The senora was a 
short lively little woman with brown eyes and black 
hair, and she exhibited much more vivacity and a 
livelier flow of spirits than many of the Peruvian 
ladies. 

Senorita Clotilde was short, like her mother, but 
plump and attractive, with brown eyes and brown 
hair. Ker sister Elena had the same general features, 
but was more delicate, and appeared to have a slight 
imperfection in her speech, perhaps caused by too 
much attention to the lisping sound of the pure 
Spanish language. Both were dressed in frocks of 
light pink, and the cheerfulness at times approached 
to the boisterous in their evident efforts to. appear 
lively. 

“l)o you know Chili?” asked the mother of Mr. 
Juniper. 

“ I am sorry to say I do not — only Peru.” 

“ You are of English descent ? ” 

“ No ; I am an American.” 

But you were born in the country ? ” 

“ No ; I have been here only nine years.” 

“ Of course you learned the language before you 
came — no ? ” 

“ Oh, no. What little. I know of it I learned in 
Lima.” 

“ Jesus ! You speak it like a native.” 

Mr. Juniper had heard the word so frequently from 
ladies and refined people that he had ceased to notice 
it. It was used as a simple exclamation, like Good- 
ness! or, as the French say, Dieu ! or Mon Dien! 
Besides, the Spanish pronunciation, Haysoos! made 
an entirely different word of it; and from the lips 
of one of the sehoras it had a peculiarly feminine 
sound, aB if it concealed something blasphemous under 
cover of a strictly proper and even devout form of 
expression. 


334 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Mr. Juniper found the young ladies very interesting. 
Clotilde especially was very lively, and her cheerful 
laugh seemed to give the lie to any imputation of 
suffering or disappointment. She told Mr. Juniper 
tliat she spoke Ihiglish “ vary leetle/’ although she 
really conversed in it with ease, and she had also good 
control of the French and knew a little Italian. 

.Vfter a half hour of pleasant conversation, Mr. 
.Juniper asked Clotilde to sing. The young lady, not 
waiting to be urged, and without the usual vapid ex- 
cuses witli which young ladies often preface such per- 
formances, at once took up her guitar and sang. The 
piece, slie explained, was a “ triste,'' one of the native 
songs expressing a subdued melancholy. The notes 
were in accordance with the nature of the song, and 
altogether the effect was exceedingly interesting. 

As she sang, the sehorita held her guitar in her lap, 
with one foot coquettishly crossed on the other, and 
as she bent forward, singing in a soft low tone, with a 
finely modulated voice, Mr. Juniper was forcibly struck 
with the music. 

“ It is a Chilian song ? ” he asked. 

“Yes, one of the songs of the common people, ‘Zaj 
ralomifa' ” 


“I like it very much. MJiere can I get a copy 
of it?" 

“ Oh, it is never printed. I learned it from a 
friend.” 

“ Hut the music is printed ? ” 

“No, it is always played by ear. It was never set 
to music.” 


Afterwards, at his solicitation, the sehorita furnished 
him written copies of some of her songs, which he 
translated. Without attempting to arrange them into 
English verse, for that would rob them of their quaint- 
ness and characteristic flavour, even the prose version 
was not without a rude sort of beauty. ''La Palomita'* 
he wrote out as follows : — 


SONG OF THE INGRATE 


335 


LITTLE DOVE. 

Who flies witli the light of the sun, little love, 

And bright to thy window will come, little dove, 

To bring unto thee “ Good morning,” little love 1 
Bright star of the earlier dawn, little dove ! 

The mountain orange bears no fruit, little love. 

But it gives tlie blossom of hope, little dove. 

For you told me that you loved me, little love ! 

I shall die when you forget me, little dove ! 

With flushed face and s])ai‘kling eye, the senorita 
bent over her guitar and sang another of the “ tristesJ' 
Translated, it read something like this : — 

I LOVED THE NIGHT. 

I made love to the night 
And the moon deceived me. 

Alas ! the next time 1 made love 
It was with the sun ! 

And now comes the evil adviser. 

She who counsels her son not to love me ! 

Not to love me? Alas ! holy heaven ! 

He has condemned me to sutler so ! Alas ! 

And this is my lot until death ! 

Alas ! alas ! alas ! 

"Sing ‘El Yngrato] Clotilde,’’ said Elena ; and turn- 
ing to Mr. Juniper, Elena explained — 

“Clotilde thinks ‘El Yngrato’ is the best of all the 
‘tristes.' I do not like them so well; they are all so sad.” 

And, with her voice sinking soft and low, she sang 
“El Yngrato;'' and when Mr. Juniper came to translate 
it, he could see why it was a favourite with Clo tilde, 
with the story of her disappointment before him : — 

, THE INGRATE. 

Ungrateful, unthankful, 

Why don’t you confess 
That my soul is yours ? 

(And he does not confess), 

And it calls you loudly. 

And thus you reward me, 

You Ingrate. 


336 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Till now every lover 
Who with smiles came to woo 
Found my heart like a Hint. - 
’Twas easy to forget — 

Now, alas I I cannot ! 

And thus you reward me, 

You Ingrate. 

I’m told to forget thee, 

But I can’t forget thee. 

They know how I wish to, 

My sad heart answers them. 
They urge me to do it. 

And thus you reward me, 

You Ingrate. 


With firmness and courage 
I govern my poor eyes 
Not to look upon tliee. 

I forget for a time 

And at once they seek tliee ! 

And thus you reward me. 

You Ingrate. 

The next was a trifle more cheerful. It was ex- 
plained that the Tortillera is a woman who sells tor- 
tillas or little cakes on the street corner, and this was 
her song : — 


LA TORTILLERA. 

The night is dark, I cannot see. 

But I carry a good lantern 
To sell my tortillas. 

Or to exchange them for love. 

But still 1 sing in sadness 

Of good hot tortillas, fresh from the embers. 

You heard me, you called me. 

You bought me with love. 

When they say “Tortillera !” 

Alas ! they steal my heart. 

Still 1 sing in sadness 

Of good hot tortillas, fresh from the embers. 


SONG OF- THE INGRATE 


My tortillas give consolation, 

My tortillas give love ! 

When they say “Tortillera 1” 

Alas ! they steal my heart. 

Still I sing in sadness 

Of good hot tortillas, fresh from the embers. 

Alas'! who will trade with me? 

Take my basket for kisses ? 

Sir, if you desire them 
Fresh and warm, here they are I 
Still I sing in sadness 

Of good hot tortillas, fresh from the embers, 

next was El Corazon,” or “ The Heart ” 


EL CORAZON. 

Heart, in thy torment 
Thou livest so dissembling, 

For he who sees thee silent 
Believes thee content. 

I admire thy patience, 

Although thou deservest not comfort. 
I know not how thou diest. 

Heart, in thy torment, 

Yes, yes, yes, yes, 

Heart, in thy torment. 

Yet, to thy owner adored, 

Thou hidest thy suffering, 

And appearing to please, 

Thou livest so dissembling. 

Alas I yes, yes, yes, yes, 

Thou livest so dissembling. 

Only he that observes thee attentive 
Will know thy pain. 

For he who knows not of love 
Believes thee content ; 

Yes, yes, yes, yes. 

He believes thee content. 


338 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“La Paloma,” or “The Dove,” was the last of her 
songs, and the expression which she gave to it showed 
that the singer felt the force of the words : — 

LA PALOMA. 

Pure dove, tranquil fount 
Of my love ! ray of light ! 

Soft odour of languishing air ! 

White lily, innocent girl ! 

All this art thou ! 

Bird that mourns far from its nest, 

Far from the wood where it was born ; 

Erring bird, that, by the darkness surprised, 

Wanders and is lost. 

All this am I — all this am I. 

Flower the most beautiful of all the flowers, 

Sweet morning star in the heavenly blue, 

Precious emblem of my love. 

Dear messenger of better hours. 

All this art thou. 

Bird that mourns far from its nest. 

Far from the wood where it was born ! 

Erring bird, that, by the darkness surprised. 

Wanders and is lost^ 

All this am I — all this am I. 

I cross thy pathway alone and in the dark, 

Give me a beam of your pure light. 

I am a withered tree, I wish new life ; 

I am miserable, I want happiness. 

Give me yourself. 

Bird that mourns far from its nest. 

Far from the wood where it was born ! 

Erring bird, that, by the darkness surprised. 

Wanders and is lost. 

All this am I — all this am I. 


CHAPTER XXXIV 

A PERUVIAN COASTER 

On the forward deck of the English steamer Casapalca^^ 
as she raised her anchor and steamed slowly out of the 
harbour of Callao, stood three men watching the slowly 
receding shores of the bay, the custom-house and 
churches of the city, and the shipping in the harbour. 
The first was a priest or friar of the country. On his 
head was the broad black hat so universally worn by 
the clerigos, with its brim rolled up on either side and 
fastened to the crown. His single visible garment was 
of black, and reached to his feet, with a red cross marked 
on the right breast. His smoothly-shaven face showed 
intelligence and sagacity, and when he became interested 
in conversation, his piercing black eyes seemed to scin- 
tillate with flashes of white light. The second was a 
Peruvian, a young man wearing a Panama hat and 
a grey suit of English cloth ; while the third was an 
American, about thirty years old, Peruvian as to his eyes 
and hair, although the latter was lightly streaked with 
grey. His forehead was high and broad, and the lines 
about his mouth indicated firmness and decision of 
character. He wore a Panama hat and a dark suit, 
and his movements as he paced the deck showed a 
degree of restless activity which was not shared by 
his companions. The bay was filled with shipping. 
The flags of the leading commercial nations of Europe 
were displayed from the vessels anchored under the 
protecting lee of the island. The muelle darsena had 
been constructed a few years before, and ships were 
now moored to the dock, where the cargo was loaded 

339 


340 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


or unloaded, instead of being transhipped into small 
lighters in the bay. A narrow railroad track had been 
extended to the different parts of the mole, and mer- 
chandise was carried directly from the steamer to the 
custom-house. Farther inland, in the valley of the 
Eimac, could be seen the smoke of the locomotive on the 
new American railroad, extended from Callao to Lima, 
and rapidly reaching towards the summit of the Andes. 

“ If we could read correctly the book of nature,” 
said the monk, ‘‘ what an interesting story it would 
tell ! There is the island of San Lorenzo, one of the 
largest on the whole western coast of South America, 
and yet we know almost nothing of its history. When 
the Spanish first visited this country, the island was 
not there. Either it formed part of the mainland, and 
the Boqueron Channel was afterwards cut through by 
some volcanic action, or else the island subsequently 
rose from the bottom of the sea. I have heard both 
theories ably sustained by scientific men. 

“ In the first place, the island corresponds geologically 
with the mainland immediately adjoining, and it is easy 
to see that some time in the past it was a part of the 
continent itself. Geologists find on the island the same 
rocks, the same fossils, and the same soils as on the 
adjacent shore. On the other hand, tradition says that 
the island arose from the bottom of the sea. The 
story is that on the night of the 28th of October 1746, 
Lorenzo Villalta, a Spanish fisherman, was setting his 
nets in the bay, when the sea was disturbed by a pro- 
digious commotion, and at the end of two hours he 
found himself stranded on the land. Not daring to 
stir from his post in the darkness, he remained silent 
and alone all night long, and when day dawned, found 
himself on the top of a mountain which was entirely 
surrounded by water. His boat and nets first met his 
eye in the early light of morning, and looking around, 
he could see the shore in the distance, but Callao had 
disappeared. With difficulty he made his way down to 


A PERUVIAN COASTER 


341 


the water with his boat, leaving his nets on the moun- 
tain top, and soon reached the mainland. There he 
found that the city had been destroyed by an earth- 
quake, and more than 5000 of its inhabitants had lost 
their lives. At low tide the submerged buildings of 
the old city can still be seen in the bay near the 
Punta. In gratitude to God for bis happy deliverance, 
he named the island after his santo, and San Lorenzo 
it will be to the end of time.” 

'' I have seen the buildings in the bay myself,” said 
the American, “but I neyer heard the explanation you 
have given.” 

“It must have been an exciting time when the earth- 
quake occurred,” continued tlie monk. “ I have read 
an account of it in one of the old records of our order. 
Padre Arispe, who wrote it, was an intelligent Spanish 
monk, who came to Lima in 1740. When the. earth- 
quake occurred he was at Callao, and out of more tlian 
two hundred monks in six different convents, he was 
the only one who was saved. 

“ It seems that the first shock came in the afternoon, 
just before dark. As soon as he felt the trembling of 
the earth he rushed to the door of the convent, and 
from the ijatio he could see the distant summits of 
the Andes wave to and fro like the tops of the trees 
in a storm, and whole sections of the mountains were 
loosened and dropped into the valleys below, while the 
surface of the earth between Callao and Lima seemed 
to rock and tremble like the undulations of the sea 

“ Believing that the end of the world had come, he 
was about to sink upon his knees in prayer, when it 
occurred to him that he would like his silver crucifix 
and rosary that he had left in Lima, and without 
stopping to consider the inconsistency of his action, 
he started immediately for Lima. Once on the plain 
above the city he was out of danger, and later, when the 
worst shock came, he was well on the road to the capital. 

“ From the safety of his position, he could hear the 


342 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


loud roar of the earthquake like the discharge of power- 
ful artillery, and at times the motion of the earth under 
his feet was so violent that he became dizzy, and was 
forced to lie flat upon his face. 

“The next day he learned that the buildings in 
Callao had crumbled into fragments, and in the night 
a whole section of the city subsided under the water, 
and the shore of the bay advanced inland more than 
half a mile, leaving many of the churches, four of the 
convents, and some of the more pretentious of the 
buildings on the sea front a mass of ruins, with forty 
feet of water flowing above them. Naturally Padre 
Arispe thanked God for his providential rescue.” 

“Undoubtedly he had reason to be thankful,” said 
Mr. Santa Cruz, “ but how was it with the other one 
hundred and ninety-nine who perished ?’ 

The monk made no reply. While his conversation 
frequently touched upon religious matters, he was care- 
ful not to be drawn into a discussion of the subject 
or to countenance the expression of antagonistic views 
from others. 

“One product of the island of San Lorenzo that I 
saw interested me greatly,” said Mr, Juniper. “It 
was a little purple flower about half as large as a violet, 
growing from a potato-vine three inches high, to which 
was attached a potato almost as large as a small plum. 
From this insignificant plant, a native of Peru, the 
potato has been developed, and is now cultivated in 
every part of the world.” 

“Peru not only gave to the world the potato, but 
cotton and flax were indigenous here. The prehis- 
toric tombs of the Incas contain specimens of cotton 
cloth equal in fineness and in colouring to any fabric of 
modern times. The tomato also originated in Peru.” 

Mr. Juniper had accepted the invitation of Padre 
Geronimo, and, in company with Mr. Santa Cruz, they 
were on their way to the sierra in the north. From 
Callao the journey took them to Pacasmayo,- a port 


A PERUVIAN COASTER 


343 


about four hundred miles, and thence they were to go 
by rail about sixty miles towards the interior. Beyond 
the railroad, mules and donkeys were to furnish the 
motive power. 

Mr. Hayner had returned from his vacation in Eng- 
land, and Mr. Juniper had secured a leave of absence 
for six months, which he purposed to spend with Father 
Geronimo. 

His object in taking this vacation was twofold. 
First, his long residence in the country, with its mild 
unvarying temperature, had undermined his health, 
which had never been robust since his experience with 
the yellow fever. He felt the necessity of a change 
and the tonic effects of a colder climate. The second 
object he had in view was one he was not quite ready 
to acknowledge to himself, although it was probably 
the principal inducement which led him to undertake 
the long journey. Whenever he had met Mr. Santa 
Cruz since the dinner in the convent, that gentleman 
had urged him to go to Cajamarca to investigate the 
story of the llamas and the buried treasure of the 
Incas. He had finally decided to go, and in going he 
had provided himself with money for an extensive out- 
lay, for he carried with him half of his accumulations 
since his recovery from the fever. With, this sum he 
felt that he could make an investigation of the case ; 
yet he had but little confidence that anything of import- 
ance would come of it. 

The little coasting steamer was one of the most un- 
comfortable that could be well imagined. The saloon 
was low and narrow, without state-rooms or cabins, 
beds being made up on the floor and a curtain sepa- 
rating the men from the women. Outside, the main 
deck liad no covering, and very little attention seemed 
to have been paid to the comfort of the pa.sscngers. 
Those of the first class numbered about twenty. Tlicy 
slept in the main saloon, while the remainder, Indians, 
Cholos, and Chinamen, slept outside on the deck, and 


344 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


each carried a blanket or mattress and provided him- 
self with food. 

The next morning the passengers awoke to find the 
little steamer in a thick fog. No land could be seen, 
but one of the sailors stood at the bow with the lead 
taking soundings in order to enter the port of Huacho, 
about a hundred miles north of Callao. The thick mist 
made the deck wet as if in a rain-storm. Occasionally 
through the dense fog came the sound of screaming 
and bellowing, as if some animal was in distress, and 
then followed groans and a roaring noise, like the voice 
of a lion. This was soon explained as the fighting of 
the seals on the small islands along the coast, and in 
the thick weather prevailing during the winter season 
the noise of these animals often served a useful purpose 
by warning navigators of their near approach to the land. 

The little steamer anchored in three fathoms of 
water, fired a gun and waited. About ten o’clock in 
the forenoon a light breeze sprang up, and soon the 
fog was dissipated, revealing a high bank about a mile 
long, delightfully green, and marked at either extremity 
by a high barren clilf. The village of Huacho had 
about 5000 inhabitants. It was the centre of a large 
trade in fowls, cattle, and pigs, for shipment to Lima, 
and near by was one of the natural curiosities of the 
world. It was a natural salt factory. By the constant 
evaporation of the sea-water, salt is formed in almost a 
pure state, and after removal a new supply is found, 
and the process continues indefinitely. This salt is 
shipped to Lima and the interior, where it is principally 
used by the Indians, and quantities of it are exported 
to Chili, Ecuador, and Columbia. ^ 

On the fifth day the Gasapalca dropped anchor in the 
open roadstead opposite Pacasmayo, In the distance, 
alDout a mile away, could be seen a small village, but 
the surf rolled so high and the little steamer tumbled 
about in such a lively manner, that the problem of 
landing seemed to be very difficult. 


A PERUVIAN COASTER 


345 


A cannon was fired from the steamer, and a signal 
from the masthead showed that four launches were 
needed ; and when every one on board had become tired 
of waiting, the launches made their appearance. They 
were great awkward flat-bottomed scows, propelled by 
ten or twelve men, who moved their long oars, five 
or six on a side, with regularity, the lumbering hulk 
moving over the high waves at the rate of about two 
miles an hour. Besides the launches, the steamer was 
soon surrounded by a crowd of Indians in the native 
boats called caballitos or little horses. These are pro- 
bably the same as Pizarro met when he made his first 
voyage down the coast from Panama. They were made 
of bunches of reeds or flags tied together like bundles 
of straw into a kind of raft about twenty feet long, 
with tapering ends, and are pushed through the water 
by a man who sits astride and handles very skilfully 
a double-bladed oar, striking the water alternately on 
the right and left side. 

Father Geronimo and his two companions had their 
luggage in readiness. As soon as one of the launches 
was alongside, it was partially loaded witli boxes and 
bales of merchandise let down by a tackle, the unwieldy 
S( ow bobbing around in the most boisterous manner 
possible. When it was tw^o-thirds full, the chain of the 
tackle was fastened to a strong barrel, with one side 
cut off, leaving an apparatus resembling a chair. In 
this barrel the first of the passengers took his seat, and 
was securely tied down. Then the chair was wound 
up on the tackle, the barrel hoisted in mid-air, and 
then it slowly descended, until it was landed on the 
top of the pile of boxes and barrels in the launch. 

This process was repeated until the dozen or more pas- 
sengers were dropped into the launch. Father Geronimo 
was the last to make the trip, and the figure he cut, with 
his long black robes and broad black hat swaying from 
right to left at the end of the long chain, was so ludicrous 
that even Mr. Juniper was forced to smile at the sight. 


346 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Once in the launch, the passengers settled down as 
comfortably as they could, while the men at the sweeps 
began to row, the long oars sometimes ploughing deep 
through a bank of water, and then scarcely touching 
the top, as the rolling surf lifted the boat on its crest. 
The swell of the sea came at regular intervals, and to 
the passengers the awkward craft appeared to be stand- 
ing still, yet when they looked at the steamer, it was 
plain to be seen that they were slowly moving away. 

Soon after leaving the side of the ship, the launch 
struck a school of pecareyes, a small fish resembling the 
sardine, and for a mile the water appeared to be almost 
a solid mass of fish. Men scooped them up in their 
hats and women filled their aprons with the wriggling 
little fish, which seemed to be driven towards the shore 
by their larger enemies in the deeper water. 

Nearing the shore, the surf became more violent in 
its dashings, and the boxes and bales of the launch 
began to roll around as the boat reared on end and 
threatened to capsize. As it would inevitably be 
turned bottom upwards by the roll of the sea, the 
passengers and cargo had to be taken on shore, while 
the boat itself remained just outside of the line of 
breakers. Then came the disembarkation, and if the 
elevation in the chair hoisted by the derrick made the 
passenger cut a comical figure, the ride from the launch 
to the shore was a far more ludicrous sight. When 
the huge launch had been paddled as near as it could 
go in safety towards the shore, about a dozen natives 
came off from the land, boldly wading into the water 
to the side of the launch. These men were naked, except 
that each one wore a breech-cloth, and they breasted 
the rolling breakers as if accustomed to the work. The 
first passenger who undertook the perilous journey was 
the good Father Geronimo. Placing one foot on the 
gunwale of the launch, wiili his bag in one hand, he 
gathered up his flowing skirt with the other and gave 
a leap, as if about to mount a horse. He landed safely 


A PERUVIAN COASTER 


347 


astride of the copper-coloured shoulders of the cJiolo, 
one leg in front and the other behind, his stomach 
closely pressed against the native’s ear. Off went the 
cholo as fast as he could make his way through the 
surf, which almost submerged him, and in fifteen 
minutes the padre was safe on shore, with no more 
damage than the wetting of his feet and legs. 

Two of the passengers were native women, who made 
their way to the shore in the same awkward fashion. 
When it came to the two young men, Mr. Santa Cruz 
boldly made the dash, in imitation of the leap which car- 
ried the padre safely on shore ; but whether it was that 
the brown shoulders of the cholo had become wet and slip- 
pery from the surf, or the native desired to play a trick 
on the young man, this chronicle is unable to determine ; 
but whatever may have been the cause, the young man 
missed his hold, and fell head first into the sea. The 
cholo assisted him into the boat again, and he then 
mounted the shoulders of the native, and was carried 
safely, but very wet, to the shore, Mr. Juniper was 
fortunate enough to be carried to the land with only a 
slight wetting of his feet. The luggage was soon trans- 
ferred to the shore without damage, for the men carried 
it upon their heads, out of reach of the surf. 

Pacasmayo was a small village, whose only import- 
ance arose from the fact that it was the terminus of a 
line of railroad extending inland fifty or sixty miles to 
Magdalena. It was the port through which the sugar, 
rice, and other products of the fertile valleys in the 
interior found their way to market. 

The train did not leave until the next morning, so 
the three travellers secured quarters at the small 
apology for a hotel. A dinner of soup, fish, chicken, 
and eggs, with a cup of strong coffee, put them in good 
humour at once, and at an early hour they retired. 
Three beds in one small room were the best the hotel 
afforded ; but before morning the travellers discovered 
that the ravages of the industrious little insect known 
as the 'pulga were not confined to Lima. 


CHAPTEE XXXV 

CROSSING THE CORDILLERA 

At nine o’clock the next morning the noisy American 
locomotive, attached to a train of three cars, puffed 
slowly out of the little station at Pacasmayo. The 
first car carried cargo ; the next was a second-class car, 
seated like an omnibus, and containing about twenty- 
five men, women, and children, principally cJwlos and 
Indians. The third was a first-class car, with about 
thirty passengers, including our three travellers from 
Lima. 

From Pacasmayo to Magdalena the track followed 
the valley of the Magdalene Eiver, and the ascent was 
so severe that it was nearly dark before the little engine 
pulled into the station near Magdalena. In the valley, 
and wherever water could be obtained, the haciendas 
were green with vegetation. Fields of rice, sugar, and 
cotton showed the richness of the soil, but the inade- 
quacy of the system of cultivation was such that not 
more than half as much was produced as the land was 
capable of raising. 

At Magdalena the only place of shelter was a fonda 
kept by a Chinaman. Here the three travellers found 
a room in which to spread their blankets, for beds were 
not provided by the proprietor. Passing through a 
room where a black kettle filled with lard was boiling 
away over a charcoal fire, for the purpose of cooking 
hits of meat on the end of a stick, the party entered a 
dirty and ill-kept dining-room. At the table the per- 
suasive voice of the friar had secui-ed the only luxury 


CROSSING THE CORDILLERA 


349 


obtainable in the fonda, namely, a fried chicken. This, 
with a few eggs, some bread and rice, and a bottle of 
2nsco, in lieu of wine, made up a dinner which was eaten 
with a relish. 

The village was two miles from the end of the rail- 
road, in a deep canon, with the mountains rising high 
on either side, and the rushing, gurgling little stream 
in the middle. In the morning, after a hasty lunch 
of bread and coffee, without milk or sugar, the party 
started for the ride over the mountains. Four mules 
had been hired for the purpose, one to carry the luggage. 
Mr. Juniper had not been in the habit of riding, and 
he viewed the preparations for the journey with a cer- 
tain degree of trepidation, but he soon discovered that the 
animals were perfectly safe and reliable, and so slow in 
their movements that no thought of danger was possible. 

When the saddles had all been adjusted and the 
luggage securely strapped to the sumpter mule, Father 
Geronimo jumped on his animal, a large grey mule with 
a tail like a paint-brush, and the procession started, 
the pack mule ahead, closely followed by the monk on 
the grey, with Mr. Santa Cruz and Mr. Juniper bring- 
ing up the rear. 

Now close along the brink of the river, so near that 
the spray from the mountain-stream dashed upon the 
feet of the travellers, the mule-path wound slowly 
around the side of the defile, rising sometimes a hundred 
feet above the stream, and then for a time losing sight 
of it altogether, all the time slowly rising to a height 
of 10,000 feet, until the three travellers halted for a 
few moments to rest themselves. It was about two 
o’clock in the afternoon, a clear bracing day, with a 
strong wind blowing 

It was the friar who spoke — 

‘^Gentlemen, you are now on the summit of the 
Andes. On this side lies the slope leading to the 
Facific, and on that the streams lead to the Amazon, 
and thence to the Atlantic.” 


350 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


They were standing on the pathway stretching along 
the side of a mountain, which towered above them 
several hundred feet. All around was a succession of 
mountain peaks, and looking east or west the scene 
was almost the same. The mountain top was com- 
posed of sand, gravel, and stone, with occasional huge 
boulders of granite. ISTo vegetation was in sight, except 
an occasional cactus, whose dry and torpid leaves made 
it doubtful whether it deserved to rank as a vegetable 
or a mineral. All was desolation itself. hTo animal 
life could be seen, except an occasional condor sailing 
in silent majesty through the upper air, and sometimes 
coming so close to the travellers that the white ruff 
about its neck could be plainly seen. Mr. Santa Cruz 
attempted to shoot one with his revolver, but the great 
lazy bird sailed leisurely overhead, its extended wings 
apparently twenty feet across, until within a few hun- 
dred yards, when it suddenly wheeled, as if it had caught 
sight of its enemy, and then floated like a leaf carried 
by a current of wind until it became a mere speck in 
the distance, and then faded from sight. 

Securing the mules to the rocks, so that they could 
not stray. Father Geronimo produced from his supplies 
two bottles of beer, a piece of the native cheese, and 
some bread. The weary travellers fell to with a will, 
and never was food eaten with greater relish. Under 
the grateful shade of a projecting rock they rested half 
an hour before proceeding. Here it was noticed that 
the extreme rarity of the atmosphere showed itself by 
the intense heat of the sun and by its peculiar magnify- 
ing property. A white cumulus cloud floating above 
seemed only a few feet distant, and mountain peaks 
which the friar said were seventy-five miles distant 
appeared so close that they might be almost reached 
by a revolver-shot. 

For an hour farther the pathway followed along the 
mountain, with slightly descending trend, and then the 
descent became more abrupt and the streams seemed 


CROSSING THE CORDILLERA 35 I 

to be going in an easterly direction. Even the mules 
seemed to understand that they were approaching - a 
more agreeable atmosphere, and the strong symptoms 
of siroche which they showed near the summit began to 
leave them. 

Coming to a turn in the road, on the side of a 
mountain peak which showed an occasional spot of 
green, Father Geronimo called to the young men — 

‘‘ There is Cajamarca ! ” 

Far away on the distant plain, in the direction in 
which he pointed, they could see the rows of white 
houses, the tower of a church, and the general outline 
of a city in miniature. 

Whipping their jaded mules, the party started again, 
and going down the crooked path as fast as the poor 
animals could be made to go, it was not long before the 
party reached the city. Through the narrow, dirty 
streets, past the market, along the main thoroughfare, 
they rode until they drew up before a one-storey build- 
ing, and the friar joyfully announced that they would 
rest there for the night. 

An Indian servant appeared at the door and took 
charge of the animals, which were led in through the 
patio and thence by the callejon to the corral in the 
rear, the luggage being left at the front door. 

It was the residence of the cure, who came out and 
embraced the friar with considerable warmth. He was 
a little fat-faced man in a dirty brown-black gown, with 
his long black liair hanging down below his collar. In 
his hand he held a prayer-book printed in red and 
black lines, and on his feet could be seen a pair of the 
rude shoes of the seranos, made from the skin of the 
guinea-pig. A good-natured, well-fed little man he 
seemed, and when Father Geronimo introduced tlic 
young men to him, he called him Father Santiago. 
Father Santiago was profuse in his welcome. He gave 
each of the young men the Spanish embrace with the 
characteristic assurance — 


33 2 the man from OSHKOSH 

‘‘ ]\Iy liouse is yours ; come in and take it.” 

After ten hours in the saddle the invitation was most 
welcome, and the three weary travellers were soon com- 
fortably located in the priest’s house. 

Tt was a low, rambling, one-storey building, with a 
vatlo paved with small stones. Built of adobe in the 
Spanish fashion, with grated windows and large doors 
opening on the street, it resembled tlie usual houses 
seen in Lima. A room was given to Fatlier Geronimo, 
and another containing two beds to the young men. 

An excellent dinner was soon smoking on the table, 
and after a substantial meal, closing with a bottle of 
claret, the four men enjoyed their cigarettes until nine 
(/(‘lock, when they separated. The young men retired, 
leaving the priests together. 

Early the next morning Mr. Juniper took a walk 
around the city so famous in the prehistoric days of 
Peru as the ancient capital of the Incas and the resi- 
dence of Atahualpa, the last sovereign of that unfor- 
tunate race. It contained about 1 5,000 inhabitants, and 
was situated about 9300 feet above sea-level in a broad 
level plain, apparently surrounded on all sides by moun- 
tains. There v ere three or four large churches, a fine 
riaza with a good fountain made of granite, and five or 
six smaller Plazas, besides two or three convents and 
hospitals. To the west the high cordillera could be 
seen, the tops of the mountains mingling with the bank 
of white clouds floating in the azure sky above. 

After the coffee, and with numerous expressions of 
gnititude to the kind-hearted Father Santiago, the 
mules were brought out, and again the travellers took 
up their line of march. 

The route lay along the plain of Cajamarca, which 
was green with vegetation. To the east, at a distance 
of six or eight leagues, was the river Marahon or Upper 
Amazon, and in that direction the mountain tops could 
be seen much lower than those on the west. Drove's 
of horses, cattle, mules, and donkeys were met as the 


CROSSING THE CORDILLERA 


353 


party rode along the pathway, here widened into a 
waggon -road, and occasionally a waggon was encoun- 
tered drawn by two heavy bullocks, the yoke fastened 
to the horns, and the driver walking along the roadside, 
occasionally punching his animals with a long-handled 
goad. 

At mid-day another stop was made for half an hour, 
and again the friar’s supplies were brought forth to stay 
the ravages of hunger, which seemed to develop amaz- 
ingly in the bracing air of this elevated region. 

Just as the sun was sinking over the western cordil- 
lera, the spire of a little church came in sight, and 
around it could be seen the hamlet of San Carlos. 

In half an hour the tired mules had wound slowly 
through the village and along a dirty road near a small 
creek until they halted in front of a farm-house on a 
slight elevation. The house was built of adobe, and was 
evidently many generations old. It had but a single 
storey, with a long veranda on one side, and seemed to 
contain rooms enough for half-a-dozen families; sur- 
rounding it were corrals for horses and mules, other 
enclosures for the cows, and near by a large flock of 
sheep and goats were quartered. 

“ Ave Maria purisima ! Here we are at last ! ” said 
Father Geronimo, jumping from his grey mule and 
rushing into the house. 

Three or four Indian servants "were at hand, and to 
them were left the care of the luggage, and the two 
young men followed the padre into the house. 

Opening from the veranda, the sala was a long, nar- 
row, uncarpeted room, containing a dozen chairs and a 
sofa, all of very ancient design. On the walls were two 
or three oil portraits and half-a-dozen coloured prints 
of religious subjects. 

Father Geronimo came in from the dining-room with 
his arm around the waist of an old lady of sixty, whom 
he introduced to the young men as his mother. Mr. 
Santa Cruz had not seen his aunt since he was ten 

z 


354 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


years old, and she failed to recognise him until his 
name was spoken by the padre, and then he was warmly 
embraced. 

The old lady had the clear black eyes of her son, and 
a fat, good-natured appearance, which, with the kind- 
ness of her manner, endeared her at once to Mr. 
Juniper. Her hair, which was once black as coal, was 
now slightly streaked with grey. She wore a frock of 
some black material, and her general appearance was 
well kept and presentable. Two younger brothers of 
the padre also made their appearance, and were pre- 
sented to the young men. 

It required but a few moments to prepare for the 
dinner, and the evening was spent in a general jollifi- 
cation by the padre and his family over his return to 
the parental home after an absence of fifteen years. 
The party broke up at an early hour, and the travellers 
retired to rest with a feeling of intense satisfaction that 
the long journey was at an end. 


CHAPTER XXXVI 

HE GOES TO LOOK FOR TREASURE 

It was a week before Mr. Juniper had recovered from 
the effects of his long ride sufficiently so that he could 
walk without discomfort. The time was spent in 
strolling about the little village, in viewing the herds 
of cattle and horses, and in talking witli the padre, 
whose joy at being once more among tlie scenes of his 
childhood made him a most interesting companion. 

On Saturday, after breakfast. Father Geronimo pro- 
posed to Mr. Juniper to take a ride. Two handsome 
white horses were saddled and brought to the veranda 
by the servants, and in a few minutes they were moving 
down the road towards the village. The animals were 
unshod, and they had the peculiar “ single-foot ” gait 
of the Spanish horses, moving quietly and steadily, so 
that the rider sat as smoothly in the saddle as if he had 
• been riding in a carriage. 

They stopped a moment in crossing the little creek 
in the village to let the animals drink. 

“ My horse seems almost ready to speak,” said the 
American, patting the arched neck of the animal, whose 
large intelligent eyes, with long grey lashes, and small 
finely-formed head, gave him an appearance of great 
beauty. 

“ I suppose these horses are of the finest blood in the 
world,” said the friar. 

‘‘ Native stock ? ” asked Mr. Juniper. 

There is no such thing as native stock,” said Father 
Geronimo. “ When the Spanish conquerors came to 

355 


35 ^ 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


this country they brought the best Arabian horses 
from Andalusia. The only native beasts of burden 
were the llamas, and although the horses on the coast 
have become contaminated by mixture with inferior 
animals, the horses in this valley are of the finest 
Arabian blood.” 

Leaving the village, the friar led the way in a wes- 
terly direction. He had not mentioned tlie subject 
of the concealed treasure since they left Lima, but 
when they started in the direction of the cordillera, Mr. 
J uiiiper suspected that the monk had the matter in his 
mind. 

A ride of two or three miles brought them to a range 
of foot-hills, whose sides showed something of green, 
where hundreds of sheep and goats were feeding. 

“Do you see the path where it winds up the hill 
near that grey rock?” asked the friar. “If I am not 
mistaken, that is the direction where the train of llamas 
was stopped, and where the cargo was concealed. I 
was but a small boy at the time, and many things have 
liappened since my father pointed it out to me. That 
is the road taken by the train of llamas, I am sure ; 
but how far from here the llamas were killed, and just 
where the spot was, I cannot tell.” 

“ Was there no clue to the locality ? ” asked Mr. 
Juniper, as they sat in the saddle looking toward the 
mountains. 

“ I have but an indistinct outline of the story in my 
memory, and no actual knowledge of the place; and 
yet in my imagination I feel as if I could go directly 
to the spot. I have heard it so often, and fancied how 
the place looks so many times, that it seems as if I 
had actually seen it.” 

“Perhaps you have dreamed about it,” said the 
American. “I have heard of people who have dis- 
covered secrets in dreams.” 

“ I have dreamed about it, but I am not confounding 
my dreams with the portion of the story which comes 


HE GOES TO LOOK FOR TREASURE 2>S7 


to me through my memory. At any rate, I am quite 
anxious to test the matter, and I feel confident that I 
can go to the spot without much difficulty.” 

And yet you cannot tell anything of the distance ? ” 

“ IN'o. It may be two miles from that pathway as it 
rises up yonder mountain side, or it may be twenty, or 
thirty, or even more.” 

“ What is to guide us in the search ? ” 

“ Only the general features of the story. You remem- 
ber that Cajamarca, Cuzco, and Quito were the three 
great capitals of the Inca country. Atahualpa, after 
succeeding to the throne, resided in Cajamarca, and at 
that place he was captured by our ancestors, the Spanish 
conquerors under Pizarro, and by them held in prison. 
He undertook to fill with gold the room in which he was 
confined, but he was cruelly assassinated just before the 
task was entirely completed. Xow the train of llamas 
was met by the messenger announcing Atahualpa’s 
death near the creek just above San Caidos. This is a 
point which we may consider settled. My father has 
told it, and he received it from his father, and each 
was thoroughly convinced of the fact. Then, instead of 
going in that direction,” and the friar pointed with the 
whip-end of his bridle, “ to strike the grand highway 
between Quito and Cajamarca, the train moved westerly 
to the foot-hills, and disappeared up the path by the 
big stone. After climbing the mountains long enough 
to reach a point ordinarily inaccessible and out of reach 
of the Spaniards, the train stopped, and the animals and 
their burden were buried in the sand. The spot must 
have been near the side of a frightful precipice, for the 
story goes that one of the arrieros in attempting to 
cut the throat of a llama missed his footing, and it was 
only by grasping the feet of the faithful animal that his 
life was saved, for had he fallen it would have been 
instant death.” 

‘‘After the treasure had been concealed, the men 
separated. Did they come out of the valley together, or 


358 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


did they separate, taking different directions immedi- 
ately after burying the llamas ? ” 

]\Ir. Juniper asked this with the air of an advocate 
examining a witness. 

“ As it was told me, the men did not separate until 
they reached the valley.” 

“ Your mother’s ancestor was in command. He 
returned to his home when the llamas were killed. 
Was it the same day or the next day ? ” 

“I never thought to mention it, but it was the day 
following, and later in the day too.” 

“ How were the bodies of the animals concealed ? 
simply by allowing the sand to cover them ? ” 

“ It was in a qiiehrado between two high mountains, 
and yet it was so situated that the sand could be made 
to cover the bodies. They used no tools. The bodies 
and the packs carried by the llamas were stacked 
together, and then by means of the stream of sand 
started from above, all was concealed from sight.” 

“Many thanks. I think we now have a basis to 
work on. And yet the time wliich has elapsed is so 
long that the narrative may be indistinct and incorrect, 
and the precise spot will probably be hard to locate.” 

“Very true. The whole story is only a tradition, 
although to me it is almost in the nature of a bequest, 
and I feel it my duty to investigate the matter.” 

They turned the heads of their horses and started 
back towards San Carlos. 

“ I cannot understand why your ancestors did not 
make an effort to find the place,” said Mr. J uniper. 

“At the time when the story was fresh, my Inca 
ancestors were bound by the oath of secrecy. Later 
the precise location was not easy to find, and fear of 
the Spaniards prevented the Indians from disturbing 
it. I have reason to believe that my father intended 
to search for it, but I am not certain that he ever made 
the attempt.” 

The two men rode back to the hacienda discussing 


HE GOES TO LOOK FOR TREASURE 359 

the subject. It was finally agreed that ^011 the follow- 
ing Monday they would start for the mountains and 
commence the search. 

Early on IMonday morning, Mr. Santa Cruz and Mr. 
Juniper began to make preparations for the expedition. 
It was decided, after some discussion, that they would 
take the four mules which had been brought from 
Magdalena. The mules were more sure-footed in the 
mountains than horses, and, if the expedition was 
delayed, the long-eared animals would be able to 
endure fatigue and lack of food much better. Andres, 
a stout mozQ from the hacienda, was to accompany the 
party to look after the animals and do the digging. 

The sumpter mule was loaded with tools for digging, 
blankets and supplies, including a stock of charca, the 
dried flesh of a sheep or goat, a staple article of food in 
the mountains, and abundance of bread in small loaves, 
a case of bottled beer, qiieso, and coffee. Sufficient food 
was provided to last a week, including a bundle of 
pressed alfalfa for the mules. Each of the young men 
was provided with a revolver, matches, candles, and a 
pocket-compass, with an abundance of heavy clothing. 
When the party was all ready to start, just after break- 
fast, the mother of Padre Geronimo came out, as well 
as the two younger brothers, and the procession moved 
off in fine style. Don Alfredo, the oldest of the two 
brothers, accompanied the party on his fiery little roan 
across the plain, and just before entering the mule- 
path by the rock, he took leave of the others, shaking 
hands with each in the most affectionate manner. 

There was but one road in sight. The friar on the 
big white mule took the lead, followed by the pack- 
mule, Andres bringing up the rear, and for half an 
hour the animals walked steadily forward up the side 
of the mountain. 

The friar was on the look-out for a quehrado which 
corresponded to the one he had described to Mr. 
Juniper, and it was understood that the party would 


36 o 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


proceed until spmething of the kind came in sight. 
'Fhe day was clear, with a strong wind, and each of 
the men found his poncho quite necessary for comfort. 
As the track left the plain and proceeded farther into 
the interior of the range and higher in altitude, less 
and less vegetation was seen. The road was sandy, 
with now and then a huge boulder, and often the way 
was precipitous and rough. 

About four o’clock, the friar, who was several rods 
in advance of the others, stopped and began to take 
observations. When the others came up he pointed 
out to them that the canon to the right in many 
respects corresponded to the description. Immediately 
in front was a steep precipice, while on either side 
the mountain towered above to the height of several 
hundred feet, while the surface was covered with 
loosely moving sand. 

In half an hour the mules had been tethered and 
Andres had advanced to the centre of the ravine and 
commenced digging. The friar stood by in anxious 
expectancy, watching every shovelful of sand as it 
was thrown out. Mr. Juniper and Mr. Santa Cruz 
climbed upwards in the middle of the quehrado for 
half a mile, closely examining the ground, but so far 
as could be seen there was no evidence of what they 
were seeking. In three or four places Andres sunk 
a great pit in the loose sand to the depth of six or 
seven feet, hut each time the friar directed him to 
stop, for nothing had been found which would warrant 
a continuance of the excavation. All at once the 
shovel struck a solid substance which was not stone 
or earth, and the friar, who was at the top of the 
opening, called to his companions with a loud shout. 
The two young men hurried to the spot. It was only 
a foot or two from the surface, and when Mr. Juniper 
arrived Andres was scraping the sand away from 
something white. It was evidently the skull of some 
animal, and the whole skeleton was soon unearthed. 


HE GOES TO LOOK FOR TLEASURE 36 1 

“ Caraiuha! ** ejaculated the monk. “It is only a 
mule ! ” 

He turned from it in disgust, and then a consultation 
was held. The mule had evidently dropped down on 
the road, and after the condors had stripped the bones 
the sand had gathered around the skeleton and after- 
wards concealed it from sight. It was plain that the 
discovery had no possible connection with the Inca 
deposit, and sorrowfully the work of digging was sus- 
pended and the procession again started. 

It was almost sundown, and at the next sheltered 
spot which was wide enough for the purpose, a halt 
was made for the night. The animals were relieved of 
their burdens and fastened to the rocks. A fire was 
lighted with pieces of taquia or llama dung and dried 
tops of the cactus collected by Andres, and soon the 
cottee was ready and dinner was eaten. Wrapped in 
ponchos, under the lee of the mountain, with the fire 
burning brightly in front, the animals feeding on the 
dry alfalfa near by, and the brilliant stars of the 
tropics sliining overhead, the situation was one of 
thrilling interest, and yet the laborious events of the 
day made rest a welcome visitor. After the cigarettes 
had been finished, it was not long before sleep had 
descended upon the whole party. 

At sunrise the next morning, while Andres was 
heating the coffee, which had been prepared in advance 
and was brought in bottles ready for use, Mr. Jimiper 
started on a stroll along the side of the mountain. 
Immediately below was the bed of what was once a 
mighty river. Huge rocks alternated with gravel 
which had been brought down from the mountains 
farther up, and it was evident tliat at one time a great 
torrent must have filled the bed of the river. 

Three-quarters of a mile from the camp and from 
the river-bed, his eye caught sight of a peculiar rock 
a few rods above on the opposite side of the quebrado. 
Mounting to the spot, an opening could be seen, and 


362 


THE MAN FRO.M OSHKOSH 


once inside, he was surprised to find that he had 
entered a cave which seemed to extend fartlier into 
the mountain. At a distance of five or six rods from 
the moutli there was a sharp angle in the passage, and 
after turning, he was surprised to see light at a short 
distance ahead. Just then his nerves received a severe 
shock on hearing a peculiar fluttering sound behind, 
but immediately an immense flock of small birds 
darted past him in the direction of the light, and his 
feelings at once resumed their natural quiet. Climb- 
ing down to the opening whicli admitted the light, he 
discovered that it opened upon another ravine much 
higher up than the level of the camp. Here the mouth 
of the cave was wide and the ceiling high, and on the 
side of the qiiehrado, a few rods distant, he could see 
a green spot, and trailing down the side of the moun- 
tain was a ribbon of verdure, showing the presence of 
water. Evidently here was the place for the camp. 

He fired his revolver once or twice to attract the 
attention of his companions, but no response followed. 
Tlie silence as he listened was t)ainfully oppressive. A 
sickening sense of loneliness came over him in the soli- 
tude. Except for the tiny line of green from the spring 
in front, not a blade of grass or sign of vegetation was 
to be seen in any direction, and no evidence was pre- 
sent of animal life in any form. Hot a bird or insect 
was in sight. Even the giant condor and the pigeons 
which had frightened him in the cave were out of 
sight. He shuddered as he looked around, and started 
to join his friends in the camp. 

Following the ravine in the direction of the river- 
bed, lie was surprised to find the pathway suddenly 
stopped. At no very remote time in the past, the 
torrent of water coming down the quehrado had carried 
away the side of the mountain, and completely annihi- 
lated the road. Below, for a hundred feet, the descent 
was almost perpendicular, but to advance was impos- 
sible. His only recourse was to return to the mouth 


HE GOES TO LOOK FOR TREASURE 363 

of the cave. He could pass through it as he had come, 
but his present object was to liod a route from the 
second opening of the cave to the camp, and this ]>ioved 
to be an easy matter. By ascending the (juthnulo about 
a hundred rods, he was enabh d to cross it, and then a 
good but circuitous pathway’ led down to tlie old river- 
bed, and in a few minutes he was in sight of the camp. 
The roundabout way of reaching the cave had its ad- 
vantage, making it much more difficult to find, and 
this, in all probability, accounted for the fact that it 
was rarely, if ever, visited in recent times. 

While taking the frugal lunch of coffee and bread, 
Mr. Juniper explained to his companions the discovery 
he had made. It was then decided to remove the lug- 
gage to the cave, and remain in the vicinity for a few 
days, making it a base of operations. 

Looking up the qiiehrado, the mouth of the cave was 
entirely concealed ; but by following the track to the 
end of the ravine, and returning on the other side, it 
was easily reached. The sun was higher, and a better 
view was obtained of the interior. Just inside the 
mouth was a room about twenty feet wide, and thirty 
or forty feet long. The ceiling was high, and hung 
with stalactites, which glistened like broken glass. In 
one part near the door, the wliite bicarbonate of lime 
was blackened with smoke, showing that the cave had 
been visited before. The fioor was level, the air was 
cool and fresh, and with the adjacent spring of fresh 
water, it appeared to be exactly the place for the camp. 

Farther towards the interior the passage narrowed, 
so that it was only five or six feet wide, and of tlie same 
height, but the roof was smooth and dark. "Without 
stopping to explore it completely, the luggage was dis- 
posed of, the animals were tethered in one corner, and 
the party sallied forth again in the journey of discovery. 

The day was spent in unsuccessful search. AYith an 
intermission of scarcely an hour for breakfast, the work 
was prosecuted with untiring vigilance. Every ravine 


3^4 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


in the vicinity was closely examined, and nothing but 
disappointment was the result. Once, in a gully near 
the river, Andres’ shovel turned up the skeleton of a 
llama ; but there was nothing else there, no treasure, 
or no other remains, except fragments of an earthen 
jar, and the weary adventurers again retired to dream 
and mourn their ill-fortune. 


CHAPTEIl XXXVII 

HE RETURNS DISAPPOINTED 

That night the friar aiid his two companions smoked 
their cigarettes after the dinner with a feeling of dis- 
appointment. The monk liad been quite confident that 
lie could locate the place where the llamas were buried 
from his recollection of the story, and yet he had spent 
two days in the search without the slightest evidence 
that he was near the spot. Father Geronimo was con- 
lident that it was in the vicinity of their present en- 
campment, but every spot had been searched that was 
at all like the place described, and yet unsuccessfully. 
It was decided to continue the examination in the 
vicinity one day longer, and then, if nothing was found, 
they would advance farther into the interior. 

Soon after he had fallen asleep, Mr. Juniper was 
startled by a strange sight. Celia appeared at the 
door of the cave. She wore a dress of brown that he 
had never seen, and there was a bunch of violets at her 
waist, and her hair was dressed differently, but still the 
soft wavy lines were there as in the old days. Strange 
to say, as she came nearer, he could see that it was a 
riding-habit she wore, and the odd-looking hat was 
evidently a part of her costume, for in her hand was a 
little whip, and her gloves were long and reached half- 
way to her elbows. 

She advanced toward him as he lay by the side of 
Mr. Santa Cruz, and smiled with the old affectionate 
greeting that he remembered so well. In the most 
natural way in the world she held out her gloved hand 
365 


366 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


to him as he rose to greet her, and without any expres- 
sion of surprise or astonishment she said — 

“Plight here, Mr. Juniper, right here ” 

“ Why, Celia,” lie gasped, “ liow did you come ? ” 

Just then Mr. Santa Cruz uttei'ed an exclamation of 
pain and anger, for some one had stepped on his toes. 
Turning for an instant towards him, Mr. Juniper lost 
sight of his visitor, and Mr. Santa Cruz called out — 

“ Cara jo ! Que tienes ? ” and struck a match. 
“Xothingv’ said Mr. Juniper, as the flickering light 
of the Swedish match blazed up and revealed the weird 
outlines of the ca^•e, with the otlier two men quietly 
sleo]iiM[;‘. The mules opened their eyes at the light, 
but plainly there was no one else to be seen. 

“It is nothing,” said Mr. Juniper; “I must have 
been dreaming.” Then he threw himself upon the 
ground again and was soon asleep. 

Before the collce was ready in the morning he 
walked out to the quehrado to see if there were tracks 
of a horse to be seen. Not that he expected to find 
them, for of course it was all a dream, but somehow he 
felt that Celia had actually been tliere. He had seen 
her, and in his own mind he was convinced of it, but 
he. knew that he could not make any one else believe it. 

About ten feet finiii the door of the cave, near a 
large flat rock, he found in the hard gravelly sand foot- 
prints of a horse. The animal evidently had been shod, 
and the sha}_)e of the foot was so different from that of 
the mule’s foot, that it was easy to distinguish it. The 
horse seemed to have been ridden to the side of the 
rock, where it had stood for several minutes, as the 
tracks showed. Then it had gone back up the quehrado 
as it came. He followed it to tlie end of the gulch, 
where it crossed over and passed down the other side 
to the main track near the river-bed. Thus far the 
marks showial two tracks, one coming towards the 
month of tin* eav(‘ and the other going away from it. 
Peaching t he main road, however, the tracks separated. 


HE UETl'RX.S UISAfPOINTEi) 


367 


It was evident that the horse had come down from the 
mountains above and had gone away in the direction 
of San Carlos. 

Without mentioning the matter to his companions, 
he called the servant, and pointing to the tracks said, 
“ xindres, what are those ? ” 

Andres examined tlie tracks minutely, and answered, 
“Some one has been here on horseback.” 

“ When was it ? ” 

“Must have been in the night.” 

“ Isn’t it an old track ? ” 

“ There was nothing there yesterday but the mule 
tracks. I noticed the tracks carefully, and you can see 
it is fresher than the tracks of our animals.” 

“Who do you suppose would come here in the 
night ?” 

“ Quien sabe ? ” 

“No one knows where the cave is but ourselves, for 
the old track to -it was washed away. How could any 
one else find the place ? ” 

“ There’s somebody that can find any place, no matter 
where you go.’! 

“ What do you mean, Andres ? ” 

“ The lientiles, Sehor.” 

Among the Indians of the sierra, the heniiles are 
little people who commit all sorts of pranks in the 
night-time. They have been known to steal chickens, 
to milk cows, to trample down the maize and the 
cebada, and even to run off with llamas and burros. 
Sometimes they make cows give bloody milk, and if 
you try to milk a cow or a goat in the night without 
crossing yourself three times, they will give you warts 
on your hands. The heniiles are a bad lot, as every- 
body knows. 

Amused at this explanation, Mr. Juniper called his 
two friends, and showed' them the tracks. 

The friar did not pay much attention to the dis- 
covery, but retired to the cave. Mr. Santa Cruz, how- 


368 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


ever, gazed upon the tracks with bated breath. “ Some 
one is watching us,’’ lie said. 

The day was spent farther from the cave. This time 
the party rode on the mules to a distance of three or 
four miles, and tlien began the search as before. Every 
qiLebrado in the vicinity like the one described in the 
story was tested with the shovel, and when the sand 
was sufficiently free from gravel and stone, a long iron 
rod was forced into the soil. Still no evidence was 
discovered of the llamas. 

Again the disappointed treasure-seekers ate their 
dinner almost in silence, and again as they lay around 
the fire they smoked their (dgarettes, and neither 
seemed to have any encouragement to offer to the 
others. Mr. Santa Cruz began to sing one of the 
mournful songs of the natives, called a yaravi. Origi- 
nally it was sung in the Aymara dialect, which 
expressed in powerful terms the melancholy of the 
deserted lover, but Mr. Santa Cruz sang the Spanish 
version. The first verse was as follows : — 

“ Perdida ya la esperanza, 

Y el corazon palpitante, 

Llora sill intermission, 

• Fuentes, rios, golf os, mares.” 

The melancholy language was made more effective 
by the decidedly doleful air in which it was sung, and 
the friar begged of him to desist. The spirits of the 
party needed something to cheer and encourage, rather 
than to depress. At an early hour, after deciding on a 
change of camp in the morning, the candle was ex- 
tinguished, and in a short time sleep again reigned 
supreme. Once more Celia appeared as before, a veil 
on her face, a jaunty hat with a black feather setting 
off the contour of her face to good advantage, and one 
hand holding her skirt and riding-whip. With the 
other hand she pointed towards the earth, her eyes 
fastened directly on the young man. She started to 


HE RETURNS DISAPPOINTED 


3^9 


speak to him, and he heard her say Here ” when 

he arose to welcome her, and found himself in the dai’k- 
ness of the cave. The only sounds were the heavy 
breathing of the men and occasionally the stirring of 
the mules on the farther side of the cave. Outside he 
could see a little patch of grey sky, but all was still, 
and clearly he had been dreaming again. 

And yet, when he tried to compose himself to sleep, 
the incident had made such an impression upon his 
mind, that he tossed on the hard earth for half an hour, 
and sleep came not. He tried the Lord’s Prayer, and 
repeated it a dozen times, and still lie could not sleep. 
It finally occurred to him that possibly there might be 
something concealed in the cave, and he decided to 
make an investigation in the morning. Why had he 
not thought of it before ? Of course lie did not believe 
in the ordinary nonsense about dreams and events being 
foretold by visions in the night. He was as free from 
superstition as any one could be, and he had always 
discredited such stories. But this seemed different. 
He had long ago arrived at the conclusion that there 
were many things in one’s experience which violate the 
ordinary rules of evidence, and set at naught the ac- 
cepted theories of life. The more he thought of it, the 
stronger became the conviction that his experience of 
the last two nights was not to be explained in the light 
of a dream, but he was convinced that Celia had actually 
been in the cave. Bidiculous as such a statement 
must appear to any one else, and impossible as it was 
to demonstrate, his belief in it was positive. Finally, 
he determined to test the whole matter by the evidence 
of the tracks. If Celia had actually made the second 
visit, of course the tracks of her horse outside would 
show it, and he was confident that the tracks were 
there. Gratified at this disposition of the subject, he 
dropped asleep. 

He was the last one to rise in the morning. Out- 
side, through the mouth of the cave, he could see the 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


370 

barren side of the qnebrado opposite, and the mules 
were nibbling the dried alfalfa in the rear of the cave, 
while the fire, where the coffee was heating, near the 
door, sent up a long slender spiral smoke. He arose 
hastily, and the first purpose in his mind was to search 
for the tracks of Celia’s horse. Closely examining the 
ground near the big rock, and along the quehmdo for 
five or six rods, he came back thoroughly disgusted, for 
there were no new tracks to be seen. It must have 
been a dream, as he might have known. Disappointed, 
and somewhat chagrined, he decided to favour an im- 
mediate abandonment of the cave, if not of the whole 
expedition. 

The morning lunch was taken as usual, the friar 
suggesting an entirely new route after they had left 
the cave. He had not given up his confidence in their 
ultimate success, although considerably disappointed. 
Mr. Santa Cruz favoured the return to the hacienda at 
once, and a new start after a few days of rest. Both 
turned to Mr. Juniper for his judgment in the case. 

Before he could reply, a loud exclamation from 
Andres attracted their attention. The man had been 
looking after the mules and getting the luggage in 
readiness for the start. They saw him staring at some- 
thing on the ground where the mules had been stand- 
ing, and in an instant he had a shovel in his hands and 
was digging industriously. Then he pulled up some 
object with considerable care and labour, and came 
forward to the men drinking their coffee. In his hand 
he had some kind of a flat dish ten or twelve inches 
long, which he had dug up. 

“ What is it, Andres ? ” asked the friar. 

" Copper, senor padre.” 

“ Where did you get it ? ” 

“ The mule wore a hole in the ground with his feet, 
and I saw the edge of it sticking up, so I dug it out.” 

Maybe there is more there.” 

“ Quien sabe ? ” 


HE RETURNS DISAPPOINTED 37 I 

‘‘Let’s try it, anyway,” said the friar, as they all 
arose in a tremor of excitement. 

“Perhaps tliis is the place we have been looking 
for,” said Mr. Santa Cruz. “ Why did we not think of 
it before ? ” 

Andres had led the mules outside, where they were 
safely tethered, and then with tlie shovel he renewed 
the digging. It was no easy task, for the soil was 
composed of gravel and sand mixed, and it had become 
solidified, so that it was almost like stone. 

“If we have found it,” said the padre, “my old 
mother shall go to Lima to live. Besides, there is a 
hospital in Lima that will be provided for. Every 
centavo of my share shall be devoted to these two 
objects.” 

“My sisters shall go to Paris,” said Mr. Santa Cruz. 
“They ought to go there to finish their education. Terese 
is such a good musician that it seems a pity she cannot 
have better advantages than are afforded in Lima. And 
Enriquita has never been outside of Lima, poor thing ! 
Xow, please God, they shall hold up their heads with 
any girls in Lima.” 

Mr. Juniper did not care to express himself on the 
subject. He had met with so many disappointments 
that he did not feel much confidence in the outcome of 
this discovery. 

Andres laboured with a will in turning up the rigid 
earth. In ten minutes he had bared a spot three or 
four feet square and had lowered it two or three inches. 
Eight next to the hole where the copper dish had been, 
he found two round implements of dark granite which 
he threw aside in disgust. Next his shovel struck a 
metal substance. It proved to be another dish of the 
same material, but round and smaller. In a few minutes 
more he unearthed three pieces of pottery, similar to 
those taken from the tombs of the Incas at Ancon or 
Truxillo. They were in a good state of preservation, 
but as the men were seeking gold and not antiquities, 


372 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


they expressed but little interest in the jars. Andres 
said nothing, but kept on digging. In half an hour he 
had thrown out a dozen different dishes and ornaments 
made of copper, and as many more pieces of pottery, 
all of which seemed to have been piled together. Still 
nothing came out like the bones of the llamas or the 
stock of gold which they had expected to find. It 
seemed as if the friar and his friends were doomed to 
disappointment. 

The excavation was vigorously pushed. It was de- 
cided to remain there for the day at least, and shortly 
after the usual hour the breakfast was eaten in a state 
of mind mid-way between hope and despondency. Con- 
fidence that they might still strike the Inca deposit 
which would make them all wealthy was struggling 
with the conviction that they had encountered simply 
a burial-place of some of the old Indian curiosities. 

All day Andres worked at the digging, and at night, 
when he was compelled to stop, the fioor of the cave 
was torn up for a distance of ten or twelve feet wide, 
and nearly as deep. On one side were arranged the 
articles which had been obtained. They numbered 
more than a hundred. There were jars and vases like 
those found in the liuacos or tombs, of curious and gro- 
tesque designs, faces of men and of monkeys, birds and 
fishes, representations of fruits, reptiles, and vegetables, 
and groups of men and animals. All these were made 
of earthenware, often finely finished, and always exe- 
cuted with considerable artistic skill. The articles of 
metal constituted more than three-quarters of the whole. 
They included eight or ten dishes, ranging in size from 
that of a small plate to an immense bowl, all very heavy, 
and of the crudest workmanship, as if they had been 
beaten out by hand. Several plain bands or strips two 
or three feet long and two feet wide had the appearance 
of having been attached to the side of a house or an 
altar, as they bore the marks of nails or screws, and 
the surface was embellished with rude engraving, which 


HE RETURNS DISAPPOINTED 373 

still showed through the dirt and corrosion of time. 
Heads of condors were repeated around the margin in 
a species of frieze or border, and tlie well-known figure 
of the llama and the vimria mingled with the face of 
the sun and representations of tall mountains whose 
tops were crowned v/ith snow. Other vessels had the 
shape of urns or vases, some were manifestly used for 
incense, and in two or three with long narrow necks 
grains of corn were found. Some of the pieces, which 
were very heavy, had evidently been intended for idols 
or statuettes, as the^ bore a faint resemblance to the 
life-size human bust, but the workmanship was exceed- 
ingly defective, strongly in contrast with the artistic 
execution of the heads and faces in the earthenware. 
Numerous small articles were in the form of rings, 
tweezers, boxes, knives and spoons, and articles of per- 
sonal adornment. 

As the different articles had been thrown out, they 
were carefully examined by the friar and his two friends, 
and while expectation was running high, the three were 
continually watching for some traces of the llamas. The 
pottery excited only disgust, and the copper articles were 
looked at simply as antiquities having little actual value. 
The great object of the search still eluded them. 

Just as the sun was going down Andres ceased dig- 
ging and began to prepare tlie dinner. When the meal 
was concluded, the three men smoked their cigarettes, 
and began to consider what was best to do. It was 
plainly to be seen that Father Cleronimo was disap- 
pointed, and his feelings had been intuitively communi- 
cated to the others. At last he felt disposed to abandon 
the enterprise, anyway for the present, and return to the 
hacienda. W hether they should renew it was a question. 

“ To think,” said Mr. Santa Cruz, that we should 
have gone to all this labour and annoyance just for a 
lot of huacos ! I am ready to cry quits and go home.” 

“ We must have enough huacos at least to pay our 
expenses,” said Mr. Juniper. 


374 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


“ I don’t believe they are worth carrying to Lima ” 
replied Mr. Santa Cruz. 

“ I think you are greatly mistaken,” said the monk. 
“ You and Mr. Juniper may have my share of tlie things, 
and I venture to say that you can easily get five hundred 
soles for the lot in Lima, and if you had them in London 
or Paris they would be worth a thousand.” 

“ A thousand soles for a lot of old hvacos I If the 
copper was gold, I dare say you are right, but copper 
isn’t worth anything ; and as for the pottery, I wouldn’t 
be to the expense of getting it to Magdalena for all it 
is worth. Why, these jars can be bought in Lima for 
two soles a piece 1 ” 

“The pottery is not worth much, I am sure,” said 
Mr. Juniper, “ but the copper things are curious, and 
show what the old Inca workmen could do without 
tools or machinery. Any antiquarian would be de- 
lighted with them, and I believe we can easily get five 
hundred soles for them in Lima.” 

“Then suppose we take the copper and leave the 
pottery, and start for the hacienda in the morning.” 

“ Let us take everything,” said the friar. 

“ But one mule cannot carry the whole lot. Those 
copper things are frightfully heavy. I am in favour 
of smashing the pottery, and leaving all the copper we 
cannot carry. The sooner we can get out of this place 
the better it will suit me.” 

“ Not so fast, my boy,” said the monk. Then turning 
to the servant he said — 

“ Andres Avelino, come here a moment ! ” 

Andres wiped his mouth with the back of his hand 
and approached the good father. 

“Andres, do you think we have found everything 
that was buried in this cave ? ” 

“ No, senor padre. The llamas must be close by.” 

Mr. Santa Cruz burst out in a derisive laugh. 

“ You think we have not yet found the treasure ?” 

‘The hentiles told me last night we should find 


HE RETURNS DISAPPOINTED 37$ 

gold here in this cave. I am sure we will reach it 
to-morrow.” 

“ Then you want to keep on digging ? ” 

Como no !” 

Very well, then.” And turning to Mr. Santa Cruz 
he said — 

“ JMariano, you go back to the hacienda to-morrow 
and get another mule. Bring me also a little more 
bread and some charca, and tell my good mother to put 
in a couple of bottles of the claret. And don’t forget 
some aJfcdfa for the animals and some strong sacks. 
Mr. Juniper and I will remain here until you come 
back, and then perhaps we shall have something to 
show you that will make your eyes stick out.” 

That night Mr. Juniper slept quietly, and in the 
morning he had an impression that he had seen Celia 
in his sleep. She was under the trees in the Wolf 
Eiver country again, wearing the cotton frock and the 
Shaker bonnet, and when she looked at him it was with 
a laughing, teasing expression, half in amusement and 
half in kindness. The effect of the dream was cheer- 
ing, and he arose fully determined to follow out the 
directions of Father Geronimo. 

After the coffee, Mr. Santa Cruz started off for San 
Carlos. Andres resumed his digging, and the other 
two, after examining again the objects unearthed on 
the previous day, sat down to watch the digging. In 
half an hour, Andres’ shovel struck sometliing hard. 
After excavating for ten or fifteen minutes, he lifted 
out the largest piece yet found. It was a metal dish 
more than two feet long, a foot high, and so heavy that 
he raised it to the surface with considerable exertion. 
The dirt adhered to its sides, which were evidently 
closely covered with engraved ornamentation, and 
the friar, as he tapped it with his knife and listened 
to its clear metallic ring, was delighted beyond ex- 
pression. 

Nothing more was found. Andres toiled all day 


3/6 


THE ISIAN FROM OSHKOSH 


with the desperation of a great discoverer, but at sun- 
set he was compelled to desist. 

The next day with undiminished vigour he renewed 
his work, but after turning up almost the whole interior 
of the cave, he gave up the task completely discouraged. 

At four o’clock, Mr. Santa Cruz came up the quebrado 
with an extra mule. There was some important news 
from the hacienda. Father Santiago, from Cajamarca, 
had been up to see Father Geroninio and had gone 
back disappointed, and the pretty white horse that Mr. 
Juniper had ridden broke its leg in the mountains and 
had to be shot. The se Flora madrc was very anxious for 
them all to return and give up their wild scheme of 
gold-hunting. 

Father Geronimo showed Mr. Santa Cruz the large 
vessel they had found. The latter simply said — 

“ Only if it was gold ! ” 

The dinner was eaten with a relish. Mr. Santa 
Cruz was in good spirits. The cigarette smoke rolled 
up in volumes to the ceiling. They were compelled to 
spread their blankets almost at the mouth of the cave, 
where it was colder, for so much of the ground had been 
torn up that it was rough and dirty. Not a word was 
said as to their movements on the next day. 

After the coffee the monk called again — 

“ Andres Avelino 1 What do you say ? Have we 
found everything that was in the cave ? ” 

“ Si, senor padre ! ” 

“ How is that ? Where are the llamas ? Where is 
the gold you promised ? ” 

“ Gold is gone. The llamas are gone.” 

“ Gone, you say. Where have tliey gone ? ” 

The hentiles have taken them all ! ” 

‘'Very well,” smiled the padre. “I think we had 
better go, else they will take us too ! ” 

So it was at once decided that they should pack the 
copper articles and the pottery as well as they could in 
the bags, and with the two sumpter mules loaded they 


HE RETURNS DISAPPOINTED 377 

would start for the hacienda. It required more than 
two hours to get the stuff loaded, for the copper was 
awkward to handle. A small piece seemed to weigh as 
much as a whole bagful of the pottery, for it was very 
heavy. By wrapping the pottery in their blankets it 
was safely packed, and then by filling the alforja which 
was carried by each of the men on his saddle, the whole 
collection was at last stowed away. By this arrange- 
ment each of the five mules carried a heavy burden, 
and Andres was compelled to walk much of the distance. 

When all was loaded, they gave a long look at the 
cave, the scene of so many bright hopes and bitter dis- 
appointments, and the procession started. 

Of course the expedition had been a failure. They 
had laboured faithfully, and had followed implicitly the 
points mentioned by the padre, and yet they had found 
no trace of the buried treasure. What they had found 
was probably a collection of huacos from some of the 
tombs, and the great Inca treasure which was to enrich 
them was still undiscovered. Even Father Geronimo 
rode along with little of his accustomed vivacity. He 
realised that he had proposed the expedition, and that 
upon his head lay the responsibility for its failure. 

On the other hand, Mr. Santa Cruz seemed so de- 
lighted to give up the search that he was in excellent 
spirits. He began to talk about the importance in an 
archaeological sense of the articles they had exhumed, 
and even proposed to make a donation of the whole col- 
lection to Professor Eaimondi when he should organise 
the new national museum. 

“ You and Mr. Juniper may do as you like with the 
whole lot,” said the padre. 

“Mr. Juniper may have my share too,” laughed 
Mr. Santa Cruz, “on condition that he takes it to 
Lima.” 

“ I think you are both mistaken as to the value of 
the collection,” said the Horth American. “ I believe 
that the Government will buy the lot, and give us 


378 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


enough for it so that we shall have quite a little sum 
over all expenses.” 

Mr. Santa Cruz laughed, and the monk reiterated 
his purpose of turning it all over to the other two. 

Before they reached the hacienda, however, it was 
agreed that -the collection should be kept together, that 
when the three should return to Lima the huacos were 
to be taken along, and that in Lima the best disposition 
was to be made of them, and the proceeds divided. As 
the friar refused to receive his share, the other two 
decided to send the money to his mother. 

Very little conversation was indulged in on the ride 
homeward. All were so disappointed that they pre- 
ferred their own thoughts. 

Just before sunset, the good friar rode into the gate 
near his mother’s residence, amid the loud and vocife- 
rous barking of half-a-dozen dogs. He was followed 
by the other two men, and poor Andres limped along 
in the rear, holding a big stick, with which he was 
industriously belabouring the sides of the new mule. 


i 


CHAPTER XXXVIII 


A STRUGGLE IN THE ANDES 

Reaching the house, Mr. Juniper found a letter which 
had been left there the previous day. It had come by 
a special messenger from Cajamaica, and was marked 
Urgente on the envelope. Opening it, he read as fol- 
lows : — 

“ Mr. H. P. Juniper. — Dear Sir, — I have just received a 
cable from England notifying me of the death of my father. 
I must start for Liverpool at once. Please come hack imme- 
diately, and I vdll wait until you return. — Your obedient 
servant, Arthur X. M. Hayner, Gerente. 

“ Lima, / wZy 25f/t, 1875.” 

When the letter was read to the good friar and his 
mother, there was a general outburst of disappointment 
that Mr. Juniper s visit should be thus summarily cut 
short. Neither was disposed to urge him to remain, 
for they realised the importance of the summons, but 
their regret was unlimited at the misfortune. 

“We had better send back old San Diego’s mules,” 
said Mr. Santa Cruz to the friar. “ We shall not go 
back for two months, and we don’t need the animals 
here.” 

“If we return the mules, why not send down the 
himcos too ? ” 

“ Exactly ! Then we shall be rid of the last evidences 
of our unfortunate expedition.” 

So, at the dinner, it was resolved to rest the next 
379 


3^0 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


day, and on the succeeding day the liuacos, safely 
packed, were to he loaded on the three mules. Then 
a fourth was to be given to Mr. Juniper for his use. 
All three were to ride over to Cajamarca, and spend 
the night with Father Santiago. Then Andres was to 
go in charge of the train as far as Magdalena to look after 
the mules, see that the hiiacos were safely transferred to 
the railroad, and then bring back Mr. Juniper’s mule. 

After many kindly expressions from the sehora and 
the younger brothers of the padre, the procession again 
took up. its line of march. Cajamarca was reached early 
in the afternoon. Father Santiago in his dirty sotaiia 
and guinea-pig slippers greeted them with the same 
lavish expressions of affection and the same offers of his 
house. Another good dinner was disposed of, and the 
padre’s claret seemed particularly palatable. 

Father Geronimo told him the story of the expedition 
in search of the Inca treasure and their disappointment, 
the hiiacos and the outcome. 

“ I am sorry you did not tell me your purpose when 
you were here before,” said the Cajamarca priest. “ I 
could have given you some important information.” 

“ I was ashamed to speak of it,” said Father Gero- 
riimo. 

The llamas have been found ! A party from Caja- 
marca went to that same range of hills last year and dug 
up the whole lot of llama bones.” 

“ Did they get the gold ? ” 

“ If they did, they kept it secret. They insisted that 
they found only the bones, but expected to reach the 
treasure next time.” 

“ Did they go again ? ” 

“ They had to come down for supplies, and when they 
went back the track was lost, and they never reached 
the spot again. A freshet had destroyed the quebrado, 
and the men returned disappointed.” 

Father Ceronimo looked at Mr. Santa Cruz and Mr. 
Juniper without saying a word. 


A STRUGGLE IN THE ANDES 38 1 

“Well/’ remarked the padre, “we found neither 
bones nor gold, but we secured a fine lot of huacos.'' 

On the succeeding morning the three pack-mules 
were loaded, and Mr. Juniper took his leave of Father 
Santiago and his two companions after many protesta- 
tions of friendship and promises to meet the latter in 
Lima in a couple of months. He was authorised to sell 
tlie livacos to the best advantage in Lima, and after 
taking out the necessary expenses the pi’oceeds were 
to be divided between Mr. Juniper and jVIr. Santa 
Cruz. Eiding at the head of the procession, Mr. 
Juniper set off in good spirits. Andres lirought up 
the rear, driving the sumpter mules just ahead, and 
the train moved off across the plain in the direction 
of the cordillera. 

At one o'clock they had reached a high point in the 
mountains, where the air was cool and l>racing. The 
mules seemed weary with the heavy load they carried, 
so Mr. Juniper decided to stop for an hour to breakfast 
and rest. The remainder of the journey to Magdalena 
was a continuous descent, so it would be easier for the 
animals. 

A good meal was served by Andres from the cold 
meat, bread, cheese, and cold chicken put up at the 
hacienda, and, lying under the shadow of a tall rock 
with his cigarette, Mr. J uniper was soon in a condition 
to fall asleep. He notified Andres to look after the 
animals for a few minutes, as he wanted a siesta, and 
then closed his eyes. 

He was awakened by a shock the most violent he 
had ever experienced in a lifetime of many vicissitudes. 
Sleep was first interrupted by the sense of smell. A 
most potent and offensive odour assailed him, and 
involuntarily he raised his hands to his face, wlien lie 
received a painful blow upon the back of his hand near 
the thumb, as if struck by a spear or point of an arrow. 
Opening his eyes, his breath almost forsook him as he 
beheld a monster whose hideous head and eyes resembled 


382 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


those of a devil more than any earthly animal. It was a 
gigantic bird, with a long pointed bill, large ugly eyes, 
and immense nostrils, with its head and neck entirely 
bald, save for a few long hairs, and around its breast 
was a white ruff of soft downy feathers. 

Striking out with both hands, in the desperation of his 
awakening, he found himself in a hand-to-hand struggle 
with the ferocious animal. A long, painful wound from 
his wrist to his elbow came next, and then he felt the 
huge claws of the bird on his leg, above his knee, 
closing into his flesh like the points of a pair of scissors, 
and next his right shoulder received another blow from 
the angry beak of the bird. But the blows from his 
hand stunned and surprised the animal, so that he had 
time to draw his revolver, and pointing it as well as he 
could at the breast of the bird, he fired twice. The 
noise seemed to be more effective than the bullets, for the 
thick mass of coarse feathers acted as a shield, but the 
ugly demon seemed dazed for an instant, and then with 
a loud hiss it hopped away, its head crouching near the 
ground, the long wings trailing behind, and hopping 
along like a lame man running a race. 

The third shot from his revolver failed, and he pulled 
it up to look at the cartridge, so that the fourth was 
fired just as the bird leaped away. It passed through 
the lower part of the left wing near the body, but did 
not stop the movement of the bird, which tumbled from 
the edge of the rock, and bounding from the ledge 
below, it seemed to take a new start, and in a few 
minutes had spread its wings and was sailing away in 
the clear air as if nothing had happened. A black 
feather measuring thirty inches in length remained on 
the ground, cut off by his bullet. The noise of the 
shooting brought Andres running to the spot. 

“ Jesus ! Maria purisima ! ” he shouted, “ what a 
condor ! ” 

“Where have you been?” asked Mr. Juniper 
languidly. 


A STRUGC 4 LE IN THE ANDES 383 

“There was a big lizard on the rock, sehor, and I 
followed him just around on the other side.” 

“ I wish you would get me some of the 'pisco. I am 
badly scratched.” 

“ Caramba ! If the condor scratches you it means 
death.” And Andres hurriedly produced the bottle of 
pisco which he handed to the American Then sinking 
on his knees at the side of his companion, the Indian 
proceeded to suck the wound with his mouth, spitting 
out the blood in great mouthfuls. First, the long 
scratch on the arm, then the wound in the hand and 
shoulder, and finally the place on the leg where the 
talons of the condor had pierced the skin. 

From its habit of feeding upon carrion the condor 
is exceedingly filthy, and gives out a most distressing 
odour. From this fact, wounds made by the bird often 
produce blood-poisoning, and are popularly supposed to 
he fatal. Besides, the birds are themselves infested 
with voracious parasites, so that personal contact with 
them is strenuously avoided. 

The condor prefers the flesh of dead animals, and 
begins its work of feasting by attacking the eyes and 
tongue, which are considered great dainties. It is only 
when pressed by hunger that it attacks living animals; 
but it has been known to kill sheep,. and even bulls, by 
well-directed blows from its claws and beak. It rarely 
attacks man. 

It was another hour before ]\Ir. Juniper felt able to 
resume his journey. Then he could hardly move enough 
to mount his mule, for his leg and arm were beginning 
to stiffen ; but at last the cavalcade resumed its march. 

The sun was just passing out of sight towards the 
Pacific when the mules drew up at the Chinese foncia 
in ]Magdalena. Fortunately, no train left for the coast 
until the second day, so Mr. Juniper had one day in 
which to recover from his accident. So stiff was he 
that he was compelled to ask Andres to lift him from 
the saddle, and he walked with difficulty to his room. 


384 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSEt 


Unquestionably the vigorous treatment administered 
by Andres had saved his life. 

On the morning of the second day the hire of the 
mules had been settled for, the huacos safely trans- 
ferred to the cars, and Mr. Juniper went aboard the 
train, after giving Andres fifty soles as a present, and 
many messages for his friends at the hacienda. As the 
train left the station, he discovered that his watch was 
missing. As no one could have taken it but Andres, 
he decided that- the Indian had abstracted it before 
starting. On account of its association, he deplored his 
loss, but unavailingly. 


CHAPTER XXXIX 


HE SELLS SOME COPPER 

By the time the steamer reached Callao his wounds 
were nearly healed. He found ]\Ir. Hayner anxiously 
awaiting his return. He had missed the connection 
for the royal mail steamer by two days, so it would be 
more than ten days before he could start for England. 

At the ]\Iess in the Calle Cadiz his old place was 
waiting for him. There were one or two new members 
— young men just out from England — and, on the 
whole, the company seemed as lively and good-natured 
as before, and after a few days he felt quite at home 
again. 

There were many important duties at the office of 
Hayner & Company before the manager could leave, 
and for a few days he was very busy. 

The Imacos were stored at the office. One afternoon, 
at the close of the business, he went into the room, 
and, opening one of the sacks, took out a small cup. 
It was one of the copper utensils, and he had a curiosity 
to see what the dealers would say about it. 

On the Portal he stopped at a small shop where 
money was exchanged, and old jewels, gold and silver, 
diamonds and curiosities were bought and sold. In a 
show-case was a tempting display of gold coins, and 
along the walls other show-cases contained pottery and 
curios from the tombs of the Incas. 

“ I have a piece of copper here I want you to look 
at,” he said, producing the cup. 

The man took the cup and eyed it curiously. Then, 
38s 2 B 


386 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


without speaking, he walked back to his bench, sat 
down, adjusted his glasses, and then examined it on 
all sides. Next he took a small file and rasped the 
edge until it was bright, and took up a small bottle 
with a glass stopper, and turned it bottom upwards. 
Eemoving the stopper, he touched with it the bright 
spot on the cup, and then watched it for a moment, 
when he rubbed it dry with a piece of paper, laid it on 
his bench, and came to the counter again. 

“ How much do you want for it ? ” he asked. 

I don’t know what it is, or what it is worth,” 

‘‘ Where did you get it ? ” 

" In the sierras with a lot of linacos'' 

“ Have you any more like it ? ” 

“ Yes, several pieces. What is it ? ” 

“ It is very good copper.” 

“What will you give me for it?” 

The man went back to his bench for the cup, which 
he placed in one side of a pair of balancing scales. In 
the other he piled silver soles until the scales balanced. 

“ ITl give you just what it weighs in silver, twenty- 
seven soles.” 

Mr. Jupiter was surprised at his liberality, for copper 
was almost worthless in comparison with silver. He 
began to suspect that the workmanship of the piece 
was valuable. 

“ I want more than that,” said he. “ It is finely made.” 
“ Yes, it is rather pretty. I’ll tell you what Fll do. 
I’ll make it fifty soles. That is almost double what it 
weighs in silver. Fifty soles is a great deal of money 
for one little Imaco^ 

“ Very well ; you may have it.” 

The man counted out the money, and Mr. Juniper 
walked to his room in a comfortable frame of mind. If 
the other copper pieces should prove of equal value, the 
despised huacos might turn out worth something after all. 

When he reached the corner by tlie Cathedral a 
thought struck him, and this is the way he mused : — 


HE SELLS SOME C 0 PPP:R 387 

“Now, ]Mr. Hayner goes to Liverpool on the next 
steamer. Wliy not ship the whole lot of kuacos to 
London ? If I sell them here by piecemeal, no one 
knows what I will get for tliem. If the/ are worth 
anything here, especially the copper ones, they will 
be worth far more in London, for London is the best 
market in the world, even for copper. Lll do it, and 
ask Mr. Hayner to negotiate the best sale he can. 
Perhaps some museum might take the whole lot.” 

Mr. Hayner expressed liis willingness to undertake 
the commission. Three or four peones were set at work 
immediately to pack the Inuicos with plenty of straw in 
huge cases, which were made doubly secure by means of 
stout iron bands. Two days before the steamer sailed, 
they were safely on board at Callao. 

In Mr. Hayner’s absence his labours at the office 
were naturally more exacting. His long connection 
with the work had made him familiar with all its de- 
tails, and he was much pleased when Mr. Hayner noti- 
fied him, just before departing, that his salary had been 
increased, and that the managers confidence in his 
ability and integrity was such that there was no doubt 
that the business would proceed just as well as when 
Mr. Hayner was present. 

He notified good Father Geronimo of his sale of the 
cup, and his subsequent determination to ship the 
huacos to Europe. 

When the padre and Mr. Santa Cruz returned, they 
called at the office and made him a long visit. Both 
were burned and reddened by exposure to the moun- 
tain winds and weather, and both greeted him most 
cordially. 

The padre presented him with a beautiful mcuna 
shawl, the work of the natives in the sierra. It was 
the gift of liis senora madre, and Mr. Juniper promised 
to keep it for ever. 

“ I congratulate you and my cousin on the good dis- 
position you have made of the huacos,'' said the padre. 


388 THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 

“I hope you will get a good price for them. They 
belong to you two, and you are entitled to good pay 
for your labour.” 

“ When I get returns on the sale, I will talk with 
you,” said Mr. Juniper. He had not forgotten the 
good padre’s brilliant hopes for a gift to the Lima 
hospital and the surprise for the senora madre. His 
purpose was unchanged to make an equal division, 
whatever the amount might be. 


CHAPTEK XL 


HE RECEIVES ANOTHER LETTER 

Mr. Hayner had been gone more than four months. 
His letters announced the arrival in Liverpool, the 
receipt of the boxes of huacos, and the disposition of 
the elder Hayner s estate. No particulars had been 
received of the sale of the curiosities, and Mr. Juniper 
was beginning to feel a little apprehensive. Possibly 
the huacos could not be sold at all in London. Then 
the rest of the copper might not be as valuable as the 
small cup which he sold, and very likely he could 
have disposed of the whole collection at a better price 
in Lima. Peruvian curiosities, he had been told, com- 
manded a better price in Lima than in Europe or the 
United States, where they were not appreciated. 

The subject was on his mind latest at night and 
first in the morning, and he was beginning to believe 
that, like too many other brilliant schemes he had 
cherished, this one was about to be dissolved into 
nothing. 

On Saturday morning a boy brought to the office 
a message which had come by cable. It was addressed 
to Tracy Brothers & Company, but had been opened. 
He glanced at it and handed it back to the boy. 

“ This is not for Hayner & Company,” said he ; “ it 
is for Tracy Brothers & Company.” 

“ Yes, they have read it, and they sent it over to 
you to read. It is something about you.” 

The telegram was in cipher, except the address and 
signature. He could see it was dated in New York, 
389 


390 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


December loth, 1875, and signed by W. R Tracy & 
Company, the Rew York branch of Tracy Brothers & 
Company. It read as follows : — 

“ Alabaster — Sangster — mule — bobbin — Horatio — Juni- 
per — delegate — soup — hog — J uniper — wind — seat — dia- 
mond — slow — bub — now — how — J uniper — speak — seat — 
ox — bow.” 

With the telegraph code before him, the jumble of 
words was made to give the following meaning : — 


Alabaster 

Congressman 

Sangster 

Sangster 

mule 

directs us 

bobbin 

to notify 

Horatio 

Horatio 

Juniper 

Juniper 

delegate 

in Lima 

soup 

that 

hog 

he wants 

Juniper 

Juniper 

wind 

to come home 

seat 

immediately 

diamond 

.very important business 

slow 

awaits 

bub 

his 

now 

coming 

how 

ask 

Juniper 

Juniper 

speak 

to reply 

seat 

at once 

ox 

on receipt 

bow 

of this 


Mr. Juniper read the message a second and third 
time. What did it mean? Congressman Sangster 
wanted him to return to Oshkosh ! Why did he not 
explain his meaning ? 

Then through the mists of the past ten years came 
to his mind the scene in the office of the sturdy old 


HE RECEIVES ANOTHER LETTER 


391 


lumberman, the negotiations about the land, and the 
payment of the money which enabled him to make 
the voyage to South America. He laughed aloud as 
he thought of Larry Johnson and the old days in the 
pine-woods. 

But the telegram required an answer. It was simply 
impossible to think of going back to the United States 
until Mr. Hayner returned. Even then he could be 
absent only for a flying trip. Perhaps Captain Sang- 
ster had lost money on his agreement to pay the taxes 
on the land and wanted Mr. Juniper to reimburse him. 
Ko, that could not be, for Captain Sangster was always 
a man of strict integrity. His agreement was as good 
as a Government bond. Still, why did the Captain 
want him to come back ? He could form no plausible 
explanation of the request. 

After a half-hour’s cogitation with the cablegram 
in his hand, he was just as far from a solution of the 
problem as in the beginning. So, with the help of the 
cipher, he drew up a reply to the message. After copy- 
ing it in ink on the Company’s blank, it read thus : — 

“W. R. Tracy tk Co., New York. — Spin — alabaster — 
Sangster — soup — bellows — sing — gorgon — pshaw — good — 
push — yes — cow — plum — scant — j aw — waggon — so — waist 
— paid — honey. H. P. Juniper.” 

This being translated as before by the cipher would 
read like this : — 

“Notify Congressman Sangster that, on account of the 
absence of the manager, it is impossible for me to leave 
here for two months at least. If it will answer, I will start 
for New York about the middle of February. Have sent a 
letter in this mail.” 

He read it over carefully, and with a little conscious 
pride in his own skill. In a cipher message of twenty 
words he had forwarded one containing forty-seven 


392 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


words when translated, whereas the twenty-two words 
telegraphed from New York when put into English 
numbered only thirty-four. 

It was a day of surprises. The ranama steamer 
arrived at Callao about one o’clock, and just before the 
office closed the porter brought in a package of letters. 
Huiining over them hastily, ]\Ir. Juniper picked out 
one with an English postmark, and addressed to him- 
self in a well-known hand. Opening it, he was con- 
fronted with another of the great surprises of his life. 
This is a copy of the letter, which he still preserves 
among the cherished memorials of a busy life : — 

“ London, Nwemhcr 14, 1875. 

“ SiH, — I have had a jolly hard time trying to dispose of 
your Jmcicos, and I have done nothing else for the ])ast six 
weeks but look after them, and try to sell them to the best 
advantage. In the first place, 1 had all the metal ones 
tested, and found them all of the saine material and same 
fineness. Then I had them all weighed, and the weight of 
eac 1 marked on it. Then I made up my mind, if I could 
get more for tlie things as curiosities than the metal was 
worth, I would sell them to the museums, but otherwise 
they would go for old metal. AVell, the first sale I made 
Avas one curious jug that went to the Royal Institution in 
Edinburgh for ;£3oo. This was a trifle more than what it 
came to by weight, so I was well satisfied. Then I sold the 
pieces of pottery to a gentleman who had lived in Peru, and 
knew all about liuacos. He wanted them for his office, and 
when he offered me ^5 for them I jumped at hi.s offer. 
Then I had a long session witli a couple of German pro- 
fessors with spectacles. After three Aveeks’ talk they took 
six pieces for the Royal IMuseum at Rerlin and paid me 
But the best sale was the one I made to the 
British Museum. You remember a big soup-dish or foot- 
bath, or something of the kind? Well, it Avas the largest 
piece in the invoice, anyway. This is noAv in the Museum, 
and I received a cheque for ^5000 to pay for it. This was 
all I could do Avith the museums Avithout Avasting too much 


HE RECEIVES ANOTHER LETTER 


393 


time, so I was forced to close out all the rest for old metal 
to a house in Threadneedle Street. They weighed it out, 
and gave me the ruling price for the metal, and it came to 
;^42,2 29, 5s. 3d. It was eighteen carat gold, and they will 
undoubtedly make money by the purchase, but I am satis- 
fied. I enclose in this letter a cheque on Baring Brothers 
for ;£'5 i, 2 2 2, 5s. 3d., the total proceeds of your huacos after 
taking out cost of transportation, storage, &c., which I con- 
sider a very good return, being as how you thought the 
metal was only copper. 1 congratulate you, my boy, on 
your good luck. You deserve it, and you cannot feel more 
pleased over it than I do for you. Tell Mr. Meiggs I have 
ordered his sherry, and it will go on the next steamer. I 
hope to get through so as to sail by the royal mail of Wed- 
nesday month. ]\Iy remembrance to Don Enrique and Don 
Juan. — Your humble servant, 

“ Arthur N. M. Hayner, Gerente. 

“H. P. Juniper, Esq., Lima.” 


In the letter was a thin piece of paper which he had 
not noticed. Now, scarcely knowing what he did, he 
glanced at it, and saw it was really a cheque payable 
to his order for the sum named. He quietly folded 
the letter, replaced it in the envelope, and then put it 
away in the safe and sat down. As he did so, the re- 
vulsion in his feelings was so great that his head swam, 
and for an instant he was hardly conscious of what he 
was doing. Then a great gush of tears came to his 
eyes, and he felt relieved. It was well that he was 
alone, for he would not care to have the clerks witness 
this outburst. The porter entered in a few minutes, 
and he placed the rest of the letters in the safe and 
went out. 

A long walk to the stone bridge, and then to the 
Exposition, cooled his brow and quieted the excitement 
produced by the letter. 


CHAPTEK XLI 
A DOUBLE EGO 

Mr. Hayner returned about January 20th. As soon 
as he came Mr. Juniper notified him of his intended 
journey to the United States, and explained the cable- 
gram and the probable nature of the business. It was, 
of course, something about the land, but just what it 
was he did not know. 

“ But you will come back ? ” said Mr. Hayner. 

“ I do not know. Possibly not. It will depend upon 
the condition I find my affairs in. I will close up 
everything here, in any event, and then I will return 
if it seems best.” 

As soon as he had read Mr. Hayner’s letter contain- 
ing the cheque, he realised that the long anticipated 
fortune had come to him at last. He could now return 
to his old home with the consciousness that he had 
accomplished what he had attempted. A portion, 
at least, of his anticipated success had come to him. 
Whether he should give himself credit for accomplish- 
ing this success, or whether it ought to be attributed 
simply and solely to good luck, he did not stop to 
inquire. With his natural modesty, a strange counter- 
part to his overweening confidence in himself, he was 
inclined to believe that he had been favoured by Provi- 
dence, and that he had been only a blind instrument in 
the hands of a superior power. His good fortune had 
been slowly worked out by a succession of apparently 
trivial incidents, culminating in the grand realisation 
of his hopes, but he could not conscientiously say that 
394 


A DOUBLE EGO 


395 


he was entitled to much credit for any particular part 
in the whole scheme. 

At any rate, fortune had really smiled on him. He 
had deposited the cheque at the house of Tracy Brothers 
& Company. Then he placed to the credit of i\Ir. 
Hayner the sum of ;^500 for his kind assistance in so 
successfully negotiating the sale. When the balance 
was divided equally between himself, Father Geronimo, 
and Mr. Santa Cruz, it left to each 16,907, 8s. 5d. 
This amount was deposited to the credit of each, and 
Mr. Juniper had the great pleasure of handing to each 
of his friends the certificate entitling him to the little 
fortune which it represented. 

The good friar was bewildered. At first he indig- 
nantly refused the paper, and it was only when Mr. 
Juniper reminded him of the great good he might do 
with it that he consented to touch it. Then, with 
tears in his eyes, he spoke of his senora madre, and the 
pleasure it would give her to live in Lima, where she 
could be near him, and where she could spend the 
remainder of her days enjoying the comforts of religion 
and doing good to those around her. 

Soon there was great activity in the hospital of Santa 
Eulalie. A force of workmen began tearing down one 
of the half-ruined walls and extending the wing so that 
it could take in the garden near the street and build a 
double row of apartments around it. The walls were 
to be all renewed, and surely they needed it, for no 
repairs had been made on them since the great earth- 
quake;* and then a dozen more of the sisters were 
coming over from France to help care for the patients, 
for they had been crowded for room these many years! 
AVhen asked for an explanation, the pale-faced Mother 
Superior could only say that some kind-hearted friend 
had sent her 45,000 soles with which to carry on the 
good work of the hospital. 

A week later he met Mr. Santa Cruz. 

“ I have some good news, my dear friend,” he said. 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


396 

Terese is to be married next month, and we want you 
to come to the wedding. The day she is married 1 
shall give her 10,000 soles. I offered to send her to 
Paris, but Alfonso would not hear of it. He says she 
knows enough of music now, and so they are to be 
married as soon as she can get ready lier clothes. 
Little Enriquita is going to Paris in May with my aunt 
to spend there three years. Both my little sisters 
send you their best love, and want you to call on the 
mamma and them.” 

His evident happiness was so contagious that Mr. 
Juniper could not help imbibing a little of it. The 
two friends parted with the Spanish salute. 

Mr. Juniper engaged passage for Panama and New 
York by the steamer of the i 8 th of February. 

While his return to the United States under such 
favourable auspices was exactly what he had long 
hoped for, and while his success in a financial point of 
view had been far greater than his highest anticipa- 
tions, still, as he made preparations for the voyage and 
liegan to think of bidding adieu to the well-known 
scenes of the past ten years, it was impossible to re- 
])ress a sigh of regret. The feeling of utter loneliness 
and home-sickness of his first few months in Peru had 
given place to contentment, and even happiness, as he 
liad fallen into congenial labour, and, in spite of his 
numerous mishaps and difficulties, his residence on the 
whole had been agreeable. Now, as he thought of the 
delightful climate, the many warm-hearted friends he 
had made, the quaint and picturesque scenes which 
met his gaze every day, and, more than all, the triumph 
he had at last achieved in the country — for he realised 
that in one sense at least it was a triumph — he looked 
forward to his departure with sadness. 

Yet this was only momentary. The thought of Celia 
again came to him as a balm to all his sorrow. In the 
ten years since they had separated he had heard about 
her only once. Some one had sent him a Wisconsin 


A DOUBLE EGO 


397 


newspaper containing a report of the election of General 
Grant in 1 868, and in a paragraph about the Appleton 
College he had seen her name mentioned as a partici- 
pant in some college exercise. Perhaps she was dead ; 
but that could not be. Did he not see her when he 
was in the mountains ? He was forced to laugh at 
himself as the thought struck him, for somehow he 
appeared to have a dual nature, and one element in his 
mind seemed to be confident that he had seen her and 
talked with her face to face, while the other told him 
it was absurd, and he was a fool to cherish such idle 
notions. 

Even admitting that she was alive, very likely she 
was married. Why should a young lady, so attractive, 
so brilliant, and so capable of making some man happy, 
remain single all these years ? It was audacious in 
him to expect it. There was no engagement between 
them. On the contrary, eacli had expressly told the 
other that marriage was for ever an impossibility. 
True, each had expressed an intention of remaining 
single ; but while in his case there could be no other 
alternative, he felt in his heart that Celia would be 
justified in forgetting him, and she had probably for- 
gotten him long ago. When he thought of the great 
awk\^•ard boy who had made love, in such a clumsy 
manner to the dear, gentle, innocent creature, he did not 
wonder that she had ultimately refused him. The only 
wonder was that she should have ever listened to him. 

That was one part of the duplex machinery of his 
mind. Then the other part took it up. 

He loved Celia as the best and purest being he had 
ever known. He could be happy with her, and only 
the hope of some time being with her had kept him 
from total wretchedness. Once assure him that this 
hope was extinguished, and life itself would have no 
charm for him. He felt this as strongly then as on the 
day when he received her letter breaking their engage- 
ment. His life in the past ten years of their separation 


398 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


had been cheered by the actual consciousness that Celia, 
in spirit, at least, had always been with him. It was 
Celia who had encouraged him when he was on the 
verge of despair, and it was Celia who had kept him 
from evil when the natural passions and weaknesses of 
human nature had led him close to danger ; and in the 
darkness of death itself Celia had come to him like the 
fluttering of an angel’s wings. True, all this was secret, 
and not to be made known to the public, but neverthe- 
less, he believed it as firmly as he believed any abstract 
proposition. 

“ Married,” continued the duplex, “ Celia married ? 
Don’t you know she is not married ? Didn’t she come to 
see you in the mountains ? Don’t you always feel that 
she is near you ? Would she be fooling around you in 
your dreams if she was married to some other fellow and 
was raising a family of children ? Be of good cheer, for 
Celia is not married. Get back to Wisconsin as soon as 
you can and see if I am not right about it.” 

Mr. Juniper was laughing to himself when Mr. Hayner 
came in. This conversation with himself was so comi- 
cal, and at the same time so satisfactory, that he could 
scarcely conceal his pleasure. In order to hide it from 
the manager, he pleaded a business errand for himself 
and left the office. 

He directed his steps to the house of Tracy Brothers 
& Company. Walking to the cashier’s desk, he asked — 

“ What is the rate of exchange on New York ? ” 

“ I cannot just tell you, but I will send you word in 
half an hour.” 

“ I think I will put that account of mine into Ameri- 
can money.” 

“ Will you allow me to make a suggestion ? ” 

“ Certainly, and I will be glad of any information on 
the subject.” 

“ Well, I well tell you. American money is all paper, 
and gold is at a premium. The rate of premium is going 
down and always fluctuates. It will be better for you 


A DOUBLE EGO 


399 


to take a draft on London, which is payable in gold. 
Then, when you get to New York, you can easily got it 
cashed, for London exchange always brings the highest 
premium.” 

Mr. Juniper thanked him warmly for the advice, 
which was timely. Adding his savings since he had 
been in Peru, or rather since the yellow fever season, 
to his London cheque for the huacos, after taking out 
five hundred soles for his voyage home and expenses of 
getting ready, his account stood A 18,307, 83. 5d. 

When this was sold to the bank in New York, with 
the current premium in gold, it made just $109,842.50 
to his credit. 


CHAPTEE XLII 

SOME FIGURES IN A BOOK 

It was a cold blustering March day in Oshkosh. On 
the side-streets snow lay on the ground in great dirty 
heaps, despised and abhorred alike by the pedestrian 
and the man who was driving. There was no sleighing, 
and yet the snow lingered uselessly by the roadside, and 
the air was pinching and clammy with its cold breath. 
The sun shone occasionally, but the wind was so fierce 
that the air did not get warm before sunset. It was a late 
spring ill Wisconsin. The spring is always late there, 
but this year it was unusually slow about coming. 

The cashier of the First National Bank sat at his 
desk with a pile of letters from other cashiers before 
him, and his nimble fingers selected the bank drafts on 
New York and Chicago which had been sent in pay- 
ment of collections, and separated them from drafts on 
individuals which had been sent him to collect. From 
his desk in the brown stone building on the corner he 
could see the office of the new hotel opposite, and occa- 
sionally his eye wandered to the entrance, and it was 
said that it mattered not how busy the cashier was, he 
always kept one eye on the hotel and the busy street 
corner opposite. 

In the directors’ room adjoining sat a stout old 
gentleman with a florid complexion, blue eyes, and a 
large head nearly bald. His hands were full of papers, 
which he was studying intently through a pair of 
eye-glasses perched on his fat nose. Occasionally he 
stopped to make a calculation, and with his chubby 

400 


SOME FIGURES IN A BOOK 


401 


fingers grasping a pencil he took up the back of a dis- 
carded envelope and soon had it covered with a series 
of black figures. 

About eleven o’clock a stranger entered the bank 
and walked directly to the cashier’s window. He was 
a young man about thirty years old, with a fierce black 
moustache, dark eyes, and hair of the same colour, but 
slightly tinged with grey. He was well dressed, but 
there was about him a foreign air, and when he spoke 
his words had a strong English accent. 

“ Is Congressman Sangster here ? ” he asked of the 
cashier. 

“ You will find him in the directors’ room, around 
there,” and the cashier pointed to the left. 

The stranger walked past the row of tellers and book- 
keepers to the directors’ room, where through tlie open 
door he could see the stout old gentleman with his eyes 
closely studying the back of an envelope which lie was 
fast covering with crooked black figures. 

“ I believe this is Captain Sangster,'’ said the young 
man, advancing into the room and extending his hand 
to the old gentleman at the table. 

“Yes, that is my name,” and he looked up at the 
visitor, removing at the same time the eye-glasses, 
which he continued to hold in his left hand, while he 
involuntarily began to rub the glasses with his silk 
handkerchief, all the time gazing fixedly under his 
shaggy eyebrows at the young man. He returned the 
salute of the visitor rather stiffly, and then motioned 
him to a chair. 

“ Thank you,” said the other, seating himself. “ I 
have been to your house to see you, but they told me 
there that I would find you at the. bank. I see you 
don’t remember me. I had a little business with you 
ten or eleven years ago about some pine land. My name 
is Juniper. I have just come from South America.” 

Captain Sangster’s face broke out in a broad smile. 
He arose and warmly grasped the hand of his visitor, 

2 C 


402 


TRY. MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


which he shook in a manner that made up for his pre- 
vious coolness. “ Well, Mr. Juniper,” he said, I’m 
dreadful glad to see you. Do you know who I took you 
for ? I thought you was a life insurance agent, and I 
wasn’t going to waste any time on you. How you have 
changed since you went away ! When did you come in ? ” 

“ Last evening.” 

“ Now, about that land. I have got a good chance 
to sell it, and I want to explain it all to you. Can you 
come in to-morrow ? Just now I am very busy, but 
I’ll meet you here to-morrow morning at ten o’clock. 
Will that do?” 

“ Certainly. I will be here at that time,” and the 
young man arose, and shaking the congressman’s hand, 
he withdrew, contrasting in his own mind the good- 
natured abruptness of Captain Sangster with the more 
deliberate habits of the South Americans. 

After the noonday meal at the hotel he walked 
around the streets for an hour or two. Everything 
had been changed since his departure. The long row 
of wooden buildings on either side of the principal 
street had been removed by fire, and stately brick and 
stone had replaced them, while the streets themselves 
had been paved and the old rickety float bridge across 
the river had given way to four or five imposing 
structures of steel and iron. 

The walk on Algoma Street puzzled him more than 
anything else, for the country road, as it was ten years 
before, had become a fashionable avenue lined with ele- 
gant residences. In his ride to the residence of Captain 
Sangster he had noticed nothing of the changes on this 
street, but now he saw everything with astonishment. 

He looked in vain for the old wood-coloured house 
surrounded by Lombardy poplars. It had been removed 
to give place to a large factory. Two or three of the 
mills looked as they did in the old days, but the others 
had either been burned down and rebuilt, or else had 
been enlarged past all recognition. 


SOME FIGURES IN A BOOK 


403 


Eeturning,he passed down Algoma Street, and stopped 
a moment to look at a large brick building in the 
middle of a spacious yard. This he learned was tlu; 
State Normal School, and the throng of students passing 
in and out showed him that it was in active session. 

Starting again for the hotel, he did not look up until 
he came opposite tlie gate in the old wooden fence 
surrounding the school campus. I'lien came to him 
another of the great surprises of liis life, for he found 
himself face to face with Celia llranford. 

It was no dream this time. Celia had come down 
the broad walk from the Normal School and passed out 
of the gate just as he reached it, and the recognition 
was mutual. 

They walked down the street together. By the time 
they reached the Elm Street corner each had told the 
other many things. Mr. Juniper had learned that 
Celia was a teaciier in the Normal School, that her 
parents were both dead, and that her brother was a 
successful lawyer in Milwaukee. He had sent her to 
the Appleton College on his return from the army, and 
she had graduated at the head of her class, and had 
been a teacher ever since. 

To Mr. Juniper she had not changed much. There 
were the same soft eyes and pure white complexion^ 
with the fluffy reddish-brown hair and delicate baby 
throat and neck, and the soothing gentle voice, while 
her manner was as attractive as ever. The truth was 
that she had been with him so much in imagination 
that the meeting seemed only a continuance of their 
intercourse, and he was amused to see how naturally 
he met her and talked with her, manifesting but little 
s In prise or astonishment. 

“ And dear old Larry Johnson, where is he ?” 

“ Mr. Johnson was killed last year in Chicago by a 
street-car accident. He was the managing editor of 
one of the newspapers and had a brilliant prospect 
before him.” 


404 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


When he parted with Celia, he had asked permission 
to call upon her that evening. Celia was living at Mrs. 
Hamilton’s on Church Street, and it was the most natu- 
ral thing in the world for him to call upon her. 

Promptly at ten o’clock the next morning, Mr. J uni- 
per met Captain Sangster in the directors’ room at the 
bank. Captain Sangster greeted him warmly, and tlie 
two sat down for a long and confidential interchange 
of ideas. 

Captain Sangster explained to him that his ten 
years’ service as a member of Congress had expired on 
the 4th of March the year before. Some of his friends 
had wanted him to become a candidate for the United 
States Senate, but he had too much business of his own 
to want to go down to Washington again to do chores 
for the people and board himself. 

I'he difficulty about the land was this. He had two 
parties ready to take it. That is to say, he had a trade 
worked up with a St. Louis concern to buy a lot of the 
land on the Upper Wolf, and then an Oshkosh com- 
pany had taken an option on all the rest, but the 
lawyers had decided that the title would be more com- 
plete if Mr. Juniper would sign the deeds. Of course 
he expected to give a warranty-deed himself, but as 
long as Mr. Juniper was living, it was thought best to 
have him execute the deed, or at least join with Captain 
Sangster in a quit-claim. He did not know how it 
would be about executing a deed in South America, 
so he concluded to have him come home for the 
purpose. 

With the usual intermission at mid-day, the two men 
were busily engaged in the directors’ room until long 
after the close of banking hours. Captain Sangster 
was vice-president of the bank, and carried a private 
key to the door. As they walked down the stone steps 
he said — 

“Well, T am glad it is all settled, Mr. Juniper, and 
I think we got every cent it’s worth.” 


SOME FIGURES IN A BOOK 405 

A week later the Daily North- Western published the 
following piece of news : — 

“Pine Land Sale. — A large pine land deal was closed 
to-day. A portion of the tract of land on the Upper Wolf, 
knowni as the Juniper land, in which ex-Congressman Sang- 
ster was interested, was sold to the Kant, Strong Ca of St. 
Louis for the consideration of $115,000.” 

Another page of the newspaper contained this para- 
graph : — 

“ A large portion of the stock of the Ray Manufacturing 
Company changed hands to-day. Mr. Horatio Jubilee, of 
Lima, Peru, purchased the interest of A. W. Jacobs. Mr. 
Jubilee has lived in South America for the past ten years, 
but has been engaged in the manufacture of sash, doors, and 
blinds all his life. He will take possession January ist, and 
then assume the management of the business.” 

Several days later, the same paper had more news of 
the same kind : — 

“Another Pine Land Sale. — The North-Western has it 
from good authority that the Bragg & Sloat Lumber Company 
to-day purchased the remainder of the magnificent tract of 
white pine near Keshena, known as the Juniper land, paying 
for it the snug sum of $135,000. Ex-Congressman Sangster 
had an interest in the land, and negotiated the sale. The 
B. & S. Company will commence cutting the logs next Fall, 
and they will all be run down the Wolf River, and give 
employment to our metropolitan mills.” 

Mr. Juniper walked into the First National Bank on 
Saturday morning, and was warmly greeted by the 
cashier, who invited him to step inside the private 
enclosure. 

“ I will have your book ready in a few minutes, Mr. 
Juniper. Have a seat.” 


4o6 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


In five minutes the worthy cashier, his face suffused 
with smiles, returned with a small leather-covered pass- 
book. On the outside cover he read, ‘‘The First National 
Bank in account with H. P. Juniper;” and inside the 
ink was scarcely dry where the book-keeper had written, 
“ Or. By Cheque — Sangster, 1166,666.67.” 

“ That’s a pretty good item to start” with,” said the 
cashier. 

His sister Samantha had died in Minnesota the second 
year he was in Peru. 


CHAPTER XLIII 


A REALISED IDEAL 

About the middle of May an open carriage drove up 
to the Hotel Europa in the Piazza della Trinita in 
Florence. In a few minutes a lady and gentleman 
emerged from the hotel, entered the carriage, and were 
driven slowly past the old church of SS. Trinita to the 
Lung Arno. 

The air was mild and clear. In the distance the 
lofty Apennines seemed to touch the soft blue clouds 
floating dreamily in the sky overhead. Hear at hand 
were buildings whose ancient style of architecture 
marked them as relics of the Middle Ages, while along 
the banks of the Arno the houses seemed to rise out of 
the river, with their soft tints of colour, each different 
from its neighbour, irregular, picturesque, and strongly 
individual in character, the continuity of the front ever 
broken into uneven projections of balconies, loggias, 
spires, and stairways. 

It was an American bridal couple. The carriage 
took its way past the Uffizi Palace, and across the 
Arno by the Ponte Vecchio to the Pitti Palace, and 
then to the Boboli Gardens. 

The horses walked slowly. As the carriage turned 
into the gardens, the young man took from his pocket 
a letter bearing an American stamp, tore off the 
envelope, and, apologising to his wife, glanced at the 
contents. 

“ Good news, Celia ! ” said he ; “ it is ours ! Mr. 
Sanderson has accepted my offer for his house on 

407 


4o8 


THE MAN FROM OSHKOSH 


Algoma Street. You may read the letter/’ and he 
handed it to her. 

The lady read it through carefully. 

“ How strange it seems, Horatio/’ she said, returning 
the letter, ''that events have shaped themselves just as 
we wanted them. Do you remember the day that we 
became engaged — how you promised me a house on 
Algoma Street ? I did not suppose then that it would 
be any such house as Mr. Sanderson’s, and in fact the 
promise seemed a very rash one at the time.” 

" I never had any doubt that it would some time 
come to pass,” said the young man, " that is, if I 
lived. Of course, there have been times when life 
itself appeared doubtful, but otherwise my faith has 
never wavered.” 

" Poor boy ! You will never know how I missed 
you.” 

" But I cannot say that I missed you. It was your 
presence that gave me life, or at least hope, which is 
all that sustains life ; and I feel now that my ac- 
quaintance with you has lasted ten or twelve years, 
instead of as many months. Every day of this life 
only assures me that the ideal which I carried with 
me to South America was a correct representation of 
the original as it now exists.” 

The carriage drove slowly back to the Hotel Europa. 




PLAYS 


E keep in stock one of the largest and 



^ ^ best assorted lines of plays to be 
found in the country. 

We can furnish any play published. 
Individuals and societies interested in 
this class of publications should first 
examine our lists before ordering else- 
where. 

Full descriptive catalogue, giving 
titles, number of characters, time required 
for production, etc., will be sent free on 


application. 


606 mm 


The Dramatic Publishing Company, 
358 Dearborn Street, 


CHICAGO. 




I !fT, 


1 . 1 

r • 


i 


1 


■ i 




V .^V o 



f 'fi 1^^ » 

’■* ‘ 
'Ztt^ -r v^ '* - 

cK >. 0 



1 no"* ’^/, '■» . 1 >•'' \i 

■«i. -".C(\V/^''o% A-i' " 

^^■ - ’•' 'i>, ’ - 

5 4 y -K 

A ^s'- . . <*. 

A X ^ 


* • A^’ ^ ^ ^ 

-A cP\,v*' 

y ^ 

V •>► - Y 

^f o 0 » 

<■ 4 ^ * 

* s'" ^ " 

V - 

e, A 

4^ ^ 




* iXV 

,>H^ \J^ fV ' 

li i5 4 ■ y 

^ — VF' ^V 4 l -S^vyWts^ ✓ 



v' v'‘! 




h .o ,^<0 o 



' '' 0^^ ^ ' ' ® ^ xV 

0° o*^ ■» 

/■ y o \ 0 O . >. 

rf-.. '* ,' ,0^ ^o 

> * 0 ^ 





^-i 1 ^ 

, * ’ ~ “.’ , , 

y* A' ->• -* vy- V 

• '^r 4 ^ .^jA'I#,V'' A^'' 

. * A '^'^'^J^\‘-' <* “■'^ 4, ,\ 

,'^oj " .0^ ^•"’ 4 '<f yj> c0~0 

' /jf£^-> -Kc 4 -■ 

« 1 ^ ■*■ 

jA y 1 1 V 1^ N ^ ^ 

<- '•W. y> s 

* 

X V ■}-■ “/■ O 

A r 



°: %x' 

;a'. . . . ', 'C' ' */ ' 0 ~ 0 X'' ' • • O'- 

t‘, -i yf> A „r>cs^ % ^ C>’ 

^ •^ aeArr/^ ^ . ■^ 

>- ■''=0'' •' 

rt- y 'AyS^ « <) ^, ."^ o » fjy J 

V ‘■^so" ^ *. 0 *' / 

■% A 





cP' rJ^L* ^ 0° V 1 


* fe- » ■ A . ' y s ^ ^ ' fe' '^5 - A 

* "' • ' V'^ » ■* ' « '••' ^0^^ ° ^ V c 0 ^ 

-? "P » J-iNv ^ '-3 C> ^,/y?7n^ ^ 'f' -l!^ 

•< ^ V ® ,A X /7\ -'. S- 




t> 

o 



oo 




<■ p.0 c* <- 

^ . N.^ ^SlA" \' ^ f -f f ' -J. 

.-i' -e^. ^.. » 







03 • ''L 



'*-.T»’* ^0*’ *• 

s ^ *• / ^ ~V V <1 ri '< ' 

\ . ^ f/ ^ O' ^ r C> 

' .'X'^ 7- >, 

' i; 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



□□□ 250^7503 



